


Falling Into Place

by FancyKraken



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Alpha Richie Tozier, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No Pennywise (IT), Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Beta Eddie Kaspbrak, Biting, Bonding, Bottom Eddie Kaspbrak, Bullying, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, F/M, First Time, First Time Blow Jobs, First Time Bottoming, First Time Topping, Fluff, Frottage, Gen, Good Parents Maggie & Wentworth Tozier, Henry Bowers Being an Asshole, Homophobic Language, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Omega Eddie Kaspbrak, Omega Verse, Reddie, Slow Burn, Sonia Kaspbrak's A+ Parenting, Top Richie Tozier, Track Star Eddie Kaspbrak
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-10
Updated: 2020-09-25
Packaged: 2021-03-05 05:40:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 92,695
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25179334
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FancyKraken/pseuds/FancyKraken
Summary: Richie and Eddie are best friends growing up together in Derry just trying to make it through high school in one piece. High school and growing up itself is hard enough, but what happens when feelings for your best friend evolve into something more than just friendship and the person you've come to love will one day have to be let go?A story of friendship, love, and overcoming the odds despite having the universe making them believe otherwise.
Relationships: Ben Hanscom/Beverly Marsh, Eddie Kaspbrak & Richie Tozier, Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier, The Losers Club/The Losers Club (IT)
Comments: 124
Kudos: 146
Collections: Richie/Eddie Bigbang 2019





	1. Eddie, 13 years old

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Reddie Big Bang on tumblr.
> 
> Artist for this fic: [EddieMedley on Tumblr.](https://reddiebang.tumblr.com/post/624045832790048768/eddiemedley-this-is-my-art-piece-for-the) It has been so lovely working with you on this project, thank you!
> 
> This fic is dedicated to Noora and Cait because without them I would have given up long ago. Thank you for being my inspiration and cheerleaders.
> 
> Big thank yous to Mariah for the beta on chapter one and Noora for taking the reigns for the rest of the fic. You're amazing.
> 
> **Some quick notes on the fic:**
> 
> This is my take on the Omegaverse themes and tropes wherein I didn't want to make it the glaring main focus of this fic. Think of this as more of an Omegaverse Lite™ fic where the themes/tropes of alphas and omegas bonding for the long term and some other things are there, but everything else remains fairly normal. If you're looking for more intense possessive/submissive themes/tropes or some specific physical aspects of the Omegaverse trope then this fic isn't for you. You can view it almost more as a soulmate fic with Omegaverse setting.
> 
> Overall the rating for this fic is rated T but that rating will change to E near the end of the fic so be aware of that. Also, please note that nothing 'below the belt' will happen until after Eddie and Richie have graduated from high school. 
> 
> Tags will be updated as chapters are posted, please heed them.

The weather has finally started to turn for the better in Derry, the hard grip of winter letting go with promises of warmer weather ahead. This means the Losers Club can return to their sanctuary down in the Barrens, the clubhouse. Too cold to hang out there in the winter, the Losers take turns meeting up at each other’s houses, watching movies, playing video games, or doing homework. This is the first Saturday that’s provided enough warmth for them to make the trek out to the Barrens and reclaim their own private world.

Despite the new warmth in the air Eddie’s mother insisted that he still wear his heavy winter coat when he left this morning. Said winter coat is now discarded in a heap in the corner of the clubhouse where Eddie and the rest of the Losers Club are now gathered. His baggy red sweatshirt with the _Shazam!_ lightning bolt on it is more than enough to keep him warm.

After a quick, teenage-level clean up of debris fallen through the cracks of the roof over the course of the winter, the clubhouse looks like the Neverland-esque Losers’ sanctuary once again.

Bill and Mike are sitting together watching the latest TikTok videos on Bill’s feed, filling the underground den with their laughter, while Ben inspects parts of the clubhouse that seem to need fixing up after its disuse over the winter. Even though it’s been less than a year since the clubhouse was built, having a secret underground lair does require regular maintenance. Stan and Beverly are chatting together near Eddie who is sitting on an upturned milk crate, flipping through the new issue of _X-Men_ that Bill brought with him.

Bill is great like that, bringing the latest comics to share with the rest of the group as soon as he’s done reading them. Eddie isn’t allowed to read many comics as his mom deems them ‘inappropriate for young minds and provides a false view of the world and people within it.’ Eddie doesn’t even want to get into the fact that a lot of comics often take real-world issues and twist them into something more relatable and progressive than anything else out there. But why waste his breath when he has a mommy that still treats him like a delicate six-year-old boy with asthma? Eddie is _anything_ but delicate.

He’s reading a page where Emma Frost and Storm are wreaking havoc on the enemy when Ben’s question to the group draws his attention away from the brightly coloured action and unrealistic standards in spandex.

“Has anyone seen or heard from Richie today?”

“N-no, nothing,” Bill answers, frowning.

In fact, it’s been a week since anyone heard from Richie, which is unusual since Richie Tozier is a force of nature that has to be seen and heard pretty much every thirty seconds or the natural order of the universe collapses. 

The first day of school that he was absent, the Losers sent several texts asking if he was okay. They were surprised to get a reply from Maggie Tozier, informing them that he was okay, but had come down with the flu. She’d let them know when he was better and they could visit.

Sending Richie get-well wishes, the Losers spent a much quieter school week without their motormouth friend. By the time Friday rolled around, they’d started to discuss going over to Richie’s place to see if he was really okay. Even if he still wasn’t feeling great, they should have heard from him by now.

Eddie felt uneasy; something in his gut told him that this was more than just the flu.

_What if he’s going through the change?_

Those thoughts have become an increasingly frantic running commentary inside Eddie each day Richie’s absent.

He isn’t the only one to think it, either. In a society where people are biologically assigned as alphas, betas, or omegas, it isn’t hard to connect the dots. Richie is at the age where he’ll present what nature awards him with. Dealing with puberty is hard enough for kids and young teens, but throw in the change to become an alpha or omega and it’s a wonder more teens don’t take up drinking to cope. Twelve to sixteen is the most common age to present if you were going to at all.

Beverly had gone through that change less than six months ago when she presented as an alpha. The Losers hadn’t really been surprised, as Bev had always exuded an air of command and confidence despite her home life being so turbulent and troubled. Her dad had died the year before, crashing his car into a tree after a night of heavy drinking. She mourned him and always would, but not the emotional and physical abuse she suffered at his hands. The Losers were thankful she didn’t have to go through her change with him still around. Who knows what he would have done if he were there when she presented as an alpha. 

The unspoken question hangs in the air as the Losers look at each other.

“Honestly, if he shows up as an alpha, I’m moving out of the country and joining witness protection,” Stan deadpans.

“Well, now it’s going to happen, Stan.” Mike laughs.

“How so?” Stan frowns confused, reaching up to adjust the shower cap he’s currently wearing to protect him from getting any spiders or bugs in his hair. Just another hazard of an underground clubhouse.

“You juh-just p-put that out in the u-u-universe, s-so now it’s gonna ha-happen. Those are th-the rules,” Bill says matter of factly, shrugging in a way that says _I didn’t make the rules, bro, I just know ‘em_

“Thanks, Stan, you’ve cursed us all!” Beverly makes a move to flick Stan’s nose as she gets up, smiling. Stan instinctively flinches away and scowls, partly at Bev, but mostly at himself because he knows they’re right. He put the thought out into the universe and now it’s going to come and haunt them forever.

Bev sits down on the empty milk crate next to Eddie, reaching across him for an issue of _Rat Queens_ that’s on the top of the stack of comics from Bill. He can smell the sweet vanilla and coconut scent of her shampoo and body wash as she reaches over. He smiles at her and she gives him a smile back. Eddie flushes slightly at her closeness, his heart missing a beat. He cares for Bev deeply, just like he cares for the other friends around him. While Eddie knows he’ll always love Bev platonically and is okay with that, he can’t help it if his heart does a bit of a flip-flop every time he’s on the receiving end of one of her lovely smiles.

“So do you think he’s…?” Eddie starts, but for some reason, he can’t finish. A weird feeling blooms deep inside his chest at the thought of saying ‘alpha’ and ‘Richie’ in the same sentence. 

“He’s what? Fucking mental?” Bev laughs, her blue eyes sparkling. She leans in bumping her shoulder against Eddie’s. “I mean that’s a given.”

The Losers laugh with her, not with any ill intent or malice, they all love Richie like family. They all love each other fiercely and deeply, though some a bit more deeply and differently than others even if they don't understand it yet.

Eddie scrunches up his nose as he laughs and he flushes slightly. What’s with this weird feeling inside him? “I mean yeah, totally, he’s a fucking basket case. But what if he _did_ … present as an alpha?” He drops his gaze to the ground, unable to look at any of them in case he starts blushing harder.

“Are you scared of that, Eddie?” Ben looks at him. Really looks. He knows that Eddie and Richie are close and have been since they met when they were six years old at Derry Elementary.

Eddie is almost offended by the question, but he knows Ben doesn’t mean it the way it sounds. 

“Fuck no! Why the hell would I be afraid of that?” He gestures sharply as he speaks, trying to force the words past these odd feelings inside. “No, I just… fuck, I don’t know. He’s Richie and my friend. _Our_ friend. Okay, yeah, I guess I’m a bit worried. It’s been almost a week now and nothing.”

“We uh-uh-understand, Eddie.” Bill smiles and it makes the small rising panic in Eddie’s chest still. Bill knows. Bill understands. Bill Denbrough, one of his oldest friends, knows Eddie almost better than anyone. Almost. There’s only one person who knows Eddie better than anyone else...even if Eddie doesn’t fully understand it.

The soft, quick crunch of deadfall and brush comes through the open trap door in the roof. Everyone immediately looks up as the noises get closer and louder. No one outside of the Losers knows about the clubhouse and its location, so that can only mean one thing…

A couple of loud clunking footsteps on the wooden roof suddenly fill the clubhouse and stop. Then a foot in a battered black and white Converse sneaker appears in the entrance above, stepping onto the top rung of the ladder. A gangly boy of fourteen in jeans and a well-worn grey hoodie with _No Dice_ printed on the front comes extremely uncoordinatedly down the ladder, almost falling on his ass in the process.

Richie Tozier has come back to the land of the living!

Richie turns to face his friends and Eddie can’t help but smile widely, freckles scrunching on his face, eyes alight. The relief he feels is almost comical. He’s the same Richie. Why Eddie doubted that seems utterly moronic to him now.

Richie adjusts his ridiculous coke-bottle glasses on his nose and grins wildly at them all. “What’s up, fuckers? Miss me?”

“No. It’s been nice and quiet,” Stan comments, but he can’t hide the smile tugging at his lips as he says it. Stan may seem indifferent and distant, but he cares for Richie and loves him as if they were brothers. No idea _why_ , but for whatever fucking reason the universe decided that’s how it should be.

“Awww, I missed you too, Staniel.” Richie blows him a mocking kiss. He surveys the room and for a brief few moments, Richie’s gaze lands on Eddie.

The sudden pounding of Eddie’s heart unnerves him as their eyes lock for those brief seconds. Eddie was wrong, Richie _did_ change. He can feel it inside him, more certain than anything. What the fuck is going on and why is he reacting this way?

Eddie is taken aback by Richie’s too-pale, too-drawn skin. The dark circles under his brown eyes make them look pale and dull. Richie is obviously exhausted. He wants to get up and shove Richie back up that ladder and force him to go back home and rest; he clearly hasn’t had it easy this past week. Eddie opens his mouth to tell him he needs more rest, but the opportunity is snatched away.

“How are you feeling, Richie?” Mike asks as he gets up from his seat next to Bill, giving Richie a small hug. “We missed you, right guys?”

Everyone makes affirming noises, nodding and smiling. 

“Aw guys, you’re gonna make me cry!” Richie fake sniffles and makes to wipe away invisible tears from underneath his large glasses. “But yeah, I’m feeling better!” 

Eddie doesn’t quite believe that but holds his tongue. Richie is grinning and almost bouncing on the balls of his feet, clearly excited to tell them something.

“Ou-ou-out with it, Rich. You d-d-didn’t have the f-flu, did you?” Bill arches an eyebrow at Richie. It isn’t so much a question, but a statement of fact. Bill and Richie have been friends for so long that Bill knows when not to play into Richie’s bullshit.

“Ever the observant one, Big Bill! But yes! You are correct, I didn’t have the flu.” He stuffs his hands into his jeans pocket and pulls out a small bottle of pills.

This can only mean one thing…

“I’m an alpha, baby!” Richie shakes the bottle of pills dramatically as he gives them all the most amazing news ever. At least to him...but everyone is looking kinda unsurprised.

Eddie feels like the world has dropped out from under him. His chest begins to tighten in response to the news. Richie is an alpha. A fucking alpha. Of course, he would be. Unconsciously he starts reaching for his discarded fanny pack to get his inhaler. He didn’t have this reaction to Bev when she gave all of them the news, so what gives? Maybe it’s just gas? He and his mom did have tacos for dinner last night.

Quickly he removes his inhaler from his fanny pack and brings it to his mouth. Pressing the button, he feels the familiar spray of asthma medication and he inhales deeply. Immediately his chest loosens. The news must have just taken him by surprise and triggered an asthma attack. That’s all. Wouldn’t be the first time Richie had caused one.

As he looks back over to Richie, he can’t miss the small cock of Richie’s head that says, _you okay?_. Eddie gives him a small half-smile and puts his inhaler away hoping his face isn’t betraying the weird as fuck feelings he’s having right now.

“Oh my god, I have to move,” Stan groans.

“See Stan, you put it out there! You cursed us.” Bev laughs. “Congrats, Richie!” She gets up, giving him a high five.

“Guess that means we’re the best, Bev!” Richie beams at her.

“Guess so!” She nods, flinging her arm around Richie’s shoulders in support. “Everyone, take note, Richie and I are the best!”

Richie shoves the bottle of pills back down in his pocket. Now that he’s officially presented as an alpha, the pills are mandatory until he turns eighteen. They’ll help level out his hormones and block his scent to other alphas and omegas until he’s the legal age. All alphas and omegas are given these after they make the change; it helps prevent unwanted and underage claiming, general chaos in schools, and reduces the rate of alcoholism in teachers who would have to deal with that general insanity. 

Years ago, if a child made the change they would have to be segregated off at school, especially alphas. Betas, on the other hand, didn’t have to worry since they posed no threat or competition to alphas and omegas. As far as the world goes, betas have it easy in this regard.

“What’s this about Staniel putting a curse on us? Holy shit how much did I miss this week? Are you a fucking wizard now?” Richie strides over to Stan and places his hands on his shoulders. In a loud fake whisper he asks, “Stan, buddy, can you make my dick bigger? I mean it’s big already, but I really gotta impress the ladies now that I’m an alpha.”

Stan looks at Richie with a look of pure distaste and regret that he and Richie ever became friends. “Beep beep, Richie. And no. I didn’t curse anyone, just myself.”

“Literally minutes before you arrived Stan was wondering if you’d made the change to alpha. Oh, and that he’d have to move and enter witness protection if that were the case,” Ben explains.

Richie’s expression grows comically sad. “Is this true, Stan? Are you moving because I’m an alpha and now even more awesome than before? I’m gutted.”

Stan can’t help rolling his eyes at the ridiculous fake display of emotion. “Yeah, I’m moving to the moon, asshole. And even then I don’t think that’ll be far enough away.”

“Fuck, Stan, that’s commitment,” Richie says in awe. “See everyone? I’m so fucking amazing that I make people move to _the moon!_ ”

“Beep beep, R-Richie.” Bill laughs, getting up and coming closer to really look at his friend.

Eddie can’t help but notice the same flash of concern in Bill’s eyes as he sees up close the strain on Richie’s face from the past week. Changing is hard because it takes such a physical and mental toll on the body dealing with all the new sensations and chemical reactions within. Most of the time the change involves a high fever, aches and pains, disorientation, and insomnia. The body needs something but can’t figure out what exactly. Usually, the sexual component to being in the first rut or heat isn’t present or not strong enough to warrant much concern, but as the person matures that need grows stronger. That’s why it is so critical for young alphas and omegas to be put on their blocker medication as soon as they’re gone through it the first time.

“Are y-y-you really okay, Rich?” The way Bill asks isn’t patronizing or pitying, the genuine love and care for his friend come through his staggering words. Bill has a magic way with words and it shows. That’s why most of the Losers consider him the unofficial leader of their group because he is a safe harbour and never makes you feel stupid or alone. 

Richie seems to physically relax slightly, comforted by the question. “Yeah,” he sighs and Eddie is surprised to hear how tired he sounds in that one word. “Fucking sucks, man. I didn’t sleep for two whole days and hardly after that until I came out of it on Thursday morning. My mom tried to give me some sleeping pills but they only made me worse. I fuckin’ slept almost twenty hours straight and woke up yesterday right before dinner. My mom made a whole pot roast and I ate the whole goddamn thing before my dad got home from work! I think I heard him crying in the bedroom after she broke the news to him. He sure does love my mom’s pot roast.”

Bill laughs, his concern for Richie put at ease. The same feeling of relief for Richie wraps around Eddie’s heart, he feels lighter and calmer.

“Anyway, my doctor said I could return to grace all you assholes with my awesomeness after I got some rest, so here I am!”

“I’m glad you’re okay, Richie,” Ben says almost shyly. Despite being friends with the Losers for over a year now, Ben confessed to Eddie not long ago that he sometimes still feels silly admitting his true feelings around them even though most of them have no filter about what they feel, especially Richie, with each other.

“Thanks, Haystack!” Richie smiles at him with honest gratitude. He notices the empty milk crate next to Eddie and plops himself unceremoniously down beside him. “How's Eddie Spaghetti?”

“Terrible now that you’re here, dingus,” Eddie tries to sound annoyed, but can’t quite make it sound right. The truth is that inside he feels anything but annoyed. While he cannot quite put his finger on what he feels, it feels oddly good. Oddly… hopeful now that Richie is so close to him. Feelings are confusing as fuck and need to be banned. He missed Richie this week more than he would ever admit. Things felt off without Richie being away for so long. His chaotic and electric energy bouncing from place to place has become so ingrained in their group dynamic that without it feels wrong.

“Excellent!” Richie says, reaching across Eddie to pluck a comic off the pile. His arm brushes across Eddie’s chest and even though he’s wearing a hoodie and Eddie his sweatshirt, the brief contact makes something in Eddie’s stomach flutter in a weird way. Eddie hopes desperately that he isn’t blushing again.

“So,” Richie turns his attention to everyone, speaking in an awful fake British accent, “what is the word, my good fellows? What forms of shenanigans did I miss this week? Did that fine chap Bowers get run over by a bus?”

“We’re not that lucky,” Mike sighs.

“Damn, guess we’re not,” Richie replies disappointedly. He flips open the cover of the latest issue of _Deadpool_ and scans the page.

“Hey, how’d you know to come here? Why didn’t you text us to tell us you were better?” Eddie asks, not being able to help to feel a little hurt by Richie’s silence.

“Well, to be honest, I wanted to surprise you all. Although I was expecting a few more tears and fainting from shock. I guess what you did will have to do.” Richie reaches into his hoodie pocket and pulls out his phone. “As for where to find you,” he continues as he swipes the screen to pull up his messages, “I woke up to this from queen Beverly and I quote: _hey asshole if you’re still alive or haven’t been abducted by aliens we’ll be at the Clubhouse today._ Kissy face emoji. She didn’t say that part though.”

“Obviously, dumbass,” Stan sighs in exasperation.

“You’re welcome, by the way,” Bev replies, rolling her eyes at Richie.

Richie blows her an exaggerated kiss in thanks.

Eddie smiles at the exchange, happy that Bev had the forethought to let Richie know where they would be today. Eddie had planned that after he hung out with everyone today he would go over to Richie’s to at least ask his mom how he is doing. But now he obviously doesn’t need to.

What Eddie doesn’t know and what Richie hid with his thumb on his phone screen in case Eddie glanced at it is the second part of Bev’s message: _I think Eddie’s starting to really worry. If you’re okay and done with your change could you at least text him to let him know?_

Richie had a strong hunch that Bev would be the one to guess correctly what was happening, so he wasn’t shocked at her comment.

But what none of them knew is that Richie is still bone-deep exhausted. His body really did take a hit this week and he still felt pretty out of sorts. He honestly wasn’t planning on going out today, instead, he was going to throw out a message to the group chat and ask them if they wanted to come over to Netflix and platonically chill, but as soon as he read Bev’s text he knew he had to go to the clubhouse instead.

It was the right decision. Eddie is clearly more relaxed and happy with Richie back.

Eddie turns his attention back to reading _X-Men_ but has a hard time concentrating as he feels a pair of overly magnified eyes staring at him. He turns his head to catch Richie looking at him almost wistfully.

“What, dingus?” Eddie frowns.

“Nuthin’,” Richie says almost sheepishly. “You done with that comic, Eds?”

That weird fluttery feeling creeps back into Eddie’s stomach but he shoves it away. He notices that Richie hasn’t even gotten past page two of the _Deadpool_ issue he’s reading. That is weird.

“Wait your turn, Trashmouth. And don’t call me Eds.” 


	2. Richie, 14 years old

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Suddenly a photo catches his eye and he stops scrolling. It’s a new photo that Ben posted on their lunch break. It’s a candid pic of the Losers at lunch that afternoon just being their usual dumb selves. Richie’s on the left with Eddie beside him then, Bill, Mike, Bev, and lastly Stan half out of frame. Smiling, Richie taps the heart button and is about to leave some dumb comment when he really looks at the photo and his heart does a funny kind of flip flop in his chest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter warnings: Henry Bowers, homophobic language, verbal and physical bullying

It’s been almost two weeks since Richie presented as an alpha and it’s been almost two weeks of the Losers trying not to shove Richie into oncoming traffic. Metaphorically speaking of course although Stan would say otherwise.

They know after going through what Richie did really fucks with a person physically and psychologically, but there are only so many dick jokes that a person can take before wanting to go postal. The Losers are trying to be patient, but Richie is pushing it even by Richie standards.

Three days earlier after the nine millionth joke about fucking Eddie’s mom, Eddie snaps, practically screaming at Richie to shut the fuck up and go to hell. He storms off with his lunch to eat alone under the bleachers of the outdoor field. Bill, Bev, and Mike are shocked at how violently Eddie reacts. Eddie may be intense sometimes, but he would never intentionally hurt anyone and cares for his friend’s feelings. This is a very un-Eddie thing.

Eddie blowing up at Richie like that seems to pop the alpha inflated balloon in his head and he begins to deflate. He doesn’t know exactly why but the stronger than usual instinct to make sure Eddie feels better is the slap upside the head that he needed. He finds Eddie after school and apologizes (with a lot of pointers about what to actually say from Bill, Mike, and Bev. Dick jokes are now prohibited by the pain of Bev kneeing Richie in the balls).

Eddie accepts the apology on the condition that Richie turns the dial way down on the innuendos and jokes. The two continue on, as before, bickering and joking around like the best friends they always have been.

Richie is in math class along with his friends doing a pop quiz that their teacher, Mrs Hone, so lovingly surprises them with as soon as everyone is seated. Richie has always been good at math so it’s not surprising that he’s one of the first students done with the quiz. Looking lazily out the window at the early spring sunshine, Richie wishes that he could be anywhere but here right now. His whole body still aches at times since going through his change. That is normal according to his doctor. His body is trying to adjust to its new rhythm and the alpha blocker medication.

What is most surprising to him is the intense itch he cannot quite scratch that has now taken root inside him. It seems to flow through his veins, his skin feels warmer and more sensitive. He and his parents are given all the usual literature and links to support websites and classes for parents who are dealing with a child presenting as an alpha or omega. At least his parents can sympathize about what he’s going through with his mom being an alpha and his dad an omega. Richie reads some of the info, but nothing tells him about how he _really_ feels inside and out and what it means. Googling ‘itchy blood’ returns basically no real results and of course, Richie starts to fixate on if blood can even get itchy. Going down that Internet rabbit hole ends with him reading about a supposed zombie death cult cover-up by the CIA. Either way, he’s in a very odd place in his young life and it’s just going to get weirder.

“Richie. Richie!” Stan, who is sitting directly behind him, hisses and pokes him roughly in the shoulder. Richie jerks a little at the surprise contact. “Earth to Richie! Here.” Stan roughly hands him his finished quiz to be passed to the student in front of them so their teacher can collect each row’s results.

Richie didn’t even hear their teacher, Mrs Hone, ask for everyone to put their pencils down and announce the quiz to be officially over. He is spacing bad, that’s for sure.

“You okay?” Stan hurriedly whispers as their teacher collects the quizzes.

“Yeah, why?” Richie turns in his seat to face Stan.

Stan’s eyes dart quickly to the front of the classroom then back to Richie. “You just seemed kinda out of it is all.”

“’S okay, Stan the Man—“ but before Richie can continue Mrs Hone calls for everyone’s attention again. As hard as it is to pull himself away from his friend, Richie faces the front of the room and tries to act like a model student. Or in Richie’s case the least amount of times a teacher has to say, “Mr Tozier, please focus!” or “Richie, this is your first/second/final warning” during class.

The class continues and Richie tries to focus, but the strong need to steal little glances at Eddie who is sitting one row over near the front is hard to ignore. He’s studying the constellation of freckles on the back of Eddie’s neck, trying to come up with names for them when the bell rings, signalling the end of class. Quickly stuffing his books in his bag he hauls ass out of the classroom with his fellow Losers. They only have five minutes until their next and final class of the day, history.

But first, Richie has to pay a visit to the school nurse for his weekly check-in. All students who first present as an alpha or omega need to check in with the nurse once a week for the first ninety days. It’s another layer of precaution for those new alphas and omegas to make sure they’re adjusting all right to their new status and meds. It also provides a safe space to talk for those who may be struggling with things as a result of all the changes hitting them at once. But in teenage reality, it means that a student gets to miss on average twenty minutes of class time. Ten minutes to actually see the nurse and then another ten of dragging your feet back to class.

Richie shoves his math textbook in his locker in exchange for his history one. Bill, whose locker is right next to Richie’s, says something to him but he doesn’t catch it.

“Rich?”

“Huh?”

“Did you wa-want to m-meet at the C-cl-clubhouse after school?” Bill repeats.

“Sure!”

Navigating through the sea of students across the hall, Stan comes to stand next to Bill. A look of mild concern is set on his face. “Your really okay, Rich?” he asks.

“Fuck! Yes, I am!” Richie snaps. He immediately regrets his words sounding terser than he means. He slams his locker door shut slinging his backpack over his shoulder. “Sorry, yeah, I am. I have my stupid check-in with the nurse in a few minutes.”

Stan’s face visibly relaxes with the info in the assumption that Richie doesn’t want to have his check-in. Richie shifts uneasily as Stan says something to Bill but he tunes it out. This niggling sensation under his skin is making him aggravated for no reason at all.

Eddie comes up to them then, joining the group. Richie adjusts the glasses on his nose, looking at him. For some reason he can’t explain, the faint scent of soap and Eddie’s natural scent seems to calm whatever the fuck is going on inside him. Bill and Stan are his best friends, but Eddie is too. Maybe it is because Eddie has joined their group in that moment that he feels a little better, more relaxed. The Three Musketeers plus one. Richie usually does feel more comfortable when he is around more of the Losers, so that must be it. He just needs to be around his people.

Bill asks if Eddie wants to join them at the Clubhouse after school. “Can’t,” Eddie sighs, frowning slightly, “I gotta go home. It’s my mom’s turn to host her book club this evening and I gotta help clean up.”

A sudden flare of intense resentment at Sonia Kaspbrak and her stupid book club invades Richie’s brain. It’s her book club why the fuck can’t she clean up? Eddie shouldn’t have to do that.

“Dude, it’s her fucking book club, make her do it,” Richie grumbles, clearly irritated.

Eddie eyes him a little surprised at his reaction. “Yeah, let me just make my mom clean the fucking house by herself and give her back my phone that she pays for while I’m at it.”

Stupid Sonia Kaspbrak holding shit over Eddie’s head. The only reason Eddie is able to have a phone is that he had to spin it so that Sonia can keep an even tighter leash on her son. She must text him at least twenty times a day while Eddie’s at school.

Eddie opens his mouth to say something more but is cut off by the warning bell. Eddie, Stan, and Bill start heading down the hall towards the history classroom but Richie turns to go the opposite way.

Turning, Eddie frowns as Richie leaves without them. “Rich, you coming?”

Fuck he really wishes he were. Even though he is missing some class time he needs to be around his friends right now. This feeling inside him is annoying him more and more.

“Nurses check-in,” he shrugs, “I’ll see you in class.”

“Sure!” Eddie gives him a small smile and continues down the hall to class.

Making his way down the rapidly emptying hallway, Richie sighs. He’s probably still adjusting to all this shit going on, that’s all. Isn’t that what all those lame booklets and websites keep telling him? Well, it tells his parents and then they pass the info down to him, which he barely pays attention to anyway.

Richie arrives at the nurse’s office and sits on one of the three battered chairs in the small waiting area for Nurse Thomas to call him in. He fidgets with the sleeve of his shirt, picking at a loose thread.

Naturally, his mind begins to wander as he waits and he’s thinking about zombie apocalypses and how much he would kick ass when a dark skinned woman wearing a bright yellow sweater with a friendly smile pokes her head out the office door. “Mr Tozier?”

“Yeah.” Richie gets up and follows her into the small office covered in posters displaying the usual general information about puberty, safe sex a.k.a. don’t have it until you’re at least forty or you’ll die, and the food pyramid for a healthy and balanced (more like boring) diet.

Richie sits in the chair opposite the large desk in the room and bounces his foot against the carpet repeatedly. Nurse Thomas doesn’t seem to notice or care as she sits down. She pulls up his file on her computer, types in a few words and begins Richie’s check-in.

It’s the standard meeting, nothing special, both of them going through the motions. The nurse asks Richie how he’s doing. Richie replies with good, the standard one word response. Nurse Thomas goes through the list of questions and again Richie gives her the standard one or two word replies. When she gets to the last question, “Is there anything you need to talk about outside of what we’ve gone through here”’, Richie hesitates for a brief moment. He almost wants to ask about this whole itchy blood thing, but honestly why bother? The last thing he really wants to do is stay cooped up in this office regretting his life choices about deciding to confide in an adult.

“Nope, everything’s super,” Richie lies.

Nurse Thomas eyes him for a moment not really believing what he’s saying but smiles anyway, tapping at a few keys on her keyboard. “Okay, Mr Tozier we’re all done here. I’ll see you at the same time next week.”

“Great!” Richie practically rocket launches out of his seat, grabbing his backpack and heading out the door.

“Mr Tozier!” The nurse calls after him, “you’re permission slip?” She’s holding up a slip of paper with Richie’s get out of jail free card to give to his history teacher.

“Ah, right,” he snatches the piece of paper from her and genuinely grins. “Thanks, doll!” He says in the impression of an old black and white detective movie from the golden age of Hollywood.

Nurse Thomas lets out a laugh and calls after him, “don’t be _too_ late getting back to class!”

“I won’t!” Richie totally lies as he leaves.

Richie definitely toes the line between running and fast walking down the empty hallway getting as much distance as he can between him and the nurse’s office. He doesn’t quite realize he’s pushing open the doors of the side entrance of the school until he feels the warm sunshine on his face.

Pausing, Richie inhales the early spring scent in the air and feels calmer. His check-in with the nurse took less than ten minutes; he has a small window of opportunity to waste time, may as well spend a few minutes outside. He drops his backpack to the ground beside him and pulls out his phone from his pocket.

Leaning against the brick wall of the school building, he begins scrolling through his Instagram feed. His mind wanders as the flurry of colourful and trying too hard to be hipster photos scroll by on his screen. Suddenly a photo catches his eye and he stops scrolling. It’s a new photo that Ben posted on their lunch break. It’s a candid pic of the Losers at lunch that afternoon just being their usual dumb selves. Richie’s on the left with Eddie beside him then, Bill, Mike, Bev, and lastly Stan half out of frame. Smiling, Richie taps the heart button and is about to leave some dumb comment when he really looks at the photo and his heart does a funny kind of flip flop in his chest.

For a photo of the Losers it’s nothing new or different, but what immediately sends Richie into unknown cardiac territory is the look on Eddie’s face. He cannot take his ridiculously coke-bottle glasses clad eyes off him. The photo had been taken when Richie was fucking around with two straws sticking out of his mouth like long fangs. He was doing some bullshit bit about vampires and what if their fangs kept growing like how rabbit’s teeth do all their lives. Would vampires just peck at people like an ostrich? The rest of the Losers are laughing with him (and probably a little at him but that isn’t anything new), but it’s the look on Eddie’s face that has him transfixed.

Eddie’s laughing, really laughing. Not just laughing at your friend being dumb and going along with the group, but because he is really enjoying the humour and silliness of Richie’s antics. Eddie’s mouth is open, a bit of his tongue is sticking out like it always does when Eddie laughs, and eyes are positively alight with joy. And of course, those freckles that Richie enjoys bugging Eddie about drawing connect the dots on are all scrunched up on his face.

Richie did that. Richie actually made this kind of joy radiate out of his friend. The other Losers were the same, but also not quite. They are definitely enjoying Richie’s bit, but not on the same level that Eddie apparently is.

That odd niggling feeling he has under his skin such a short time ago is replaced by something else just as confusing, but it feels a lot better than the other one. A niggling feeling upgrade is what he definitely needs.

A swell of pride blooms in his chest that he’s done that. He managed to make his best friend laugh with such intensity that it brought on a mini cardiac event in his chest.

He shoots a DM to Ben’s account asking for the original copy of the pic and goes back to leave a public comment.

“ _When you turn eighteen you are legally allowed to go off your medication so that you can begin the process of letting your body adjust to its natural cycle of ruts and also to potentially find a partner to bond with…”_

Why in the fuck would that particular moment from his doctor after he presented randomly pop up in his head now?

Frowning, thumbs poised over the keyboard of his phone, Richie can’t remember what he was going to comment with.

_Eddie…_

_Yeah, that’s a good comment, asshole,_ he thinks to himself. Everyone will think he’s had a stroke.

Sighing, Richie gives up and goes to put his phone back in his pocket, but it flies out of his hand and onto the ground several feet away as he is roughly shoved sideways onto the rough pavement.

“What’s up, faggot?!” Bowers practically spits at him, grinning darkly.

Pain flares up Richie’s right arm and shoulder as it takes the brunt of the weight of his fall. He hisses through his teeth with the pain and also feeling really fucking stupid about his complete lack of awareness of Bowers coming into his personal space.

“You out here waiting to suck some old man’s dick for a buck, Tozier?” Bowers laughs and his cronies, the heavyset redneck attired, Belch and Draco Malfoy wannabe, Victor Criss flanking his sides do the same.

Richie looks up at the ugly, mullet haired wearing, troll face of Henry Bowers, resident Derry high school bully and psychopath. Bowers eyes had that empty cruel look inside them like he usually does whenever he is on the prowl.

“Yeah, and he just arrived,” Richie grins darkly up at him through his crooked glasses, not giving him the satisfaction of showing Bowers any weakness. A jackrabbit now takes up residence under his ribs and is hammering away; adrenaline floods his body as Richie verbally spars with Bowers hateful words. “Hope you got cash because I don’t take Venmo.”

“What the fuck did you just say you little cock-sucker?” Bowers' face contorts in fury at Richie’s comments. Reaching down he violently hauls Richie up by his shirt collar and slams him against the hard brick wall. He pins Richie in place with his arm firmly across his chest.

The wind is knocked out of Richie as his back meets the hard surface. His glasses are now violently askew on his face, but he can luckily still see. A small voice in his head tells him _don’t poke the fucking bear, Tozier_ , but when has Richie ever listened to his common sense?

“I don’t take Venmo,” Richie chokes out on a breathless laugh, “but if you’re short on cash I can just put it on your tab, y’know for next time.”

If Richie weren’t about to be murdered he would have genuinely laughed at the way Bowers’ face turns absolutely scarlet with rage, his lips pursed as if he’s sucking on a lemon. He doesn’t miss the way Bowers balls up his free hand into a fist and pulls his arm back to strike. Richie quickly turns his head, screwing his eyes shut tight expecting a blow to his face. He prays that his glasses will survive the hit, he doesn’t want to explain to his parents why he needs his glasses fixed or worse, new ones. But the hit never comes, to his face at least. Air vacates his lungs so violently and his head goes blank from the shock that Richie is barely aware he’s been punched in the stomach, and hard. His body loses function to stand upright and he tries to double over but can’t since Bowers is pinning him up with his arm across his chest.

Bowers leans in close and spits the words in his face, “you’re going to fucking pay for that you fucking little faggot cock sucker.”

And Richie knows this and knows it’s going to be brutal. Bowers has never put anyone in the hospital that he knows of, but he wouldn’t be surprised if he will be the first. In fact, he knows he will be the first to earn that painful title if this is going to go where he thinks it will.

“Hold this fucking piece of shit for me, guys,” Bowers commands. Belch and Vic come over without a word, flanking Richie on each side and pinning him up to the wall by his shoulders. Bowers moves back, smiling cruelly at Richie. Pure hate and rage seem to radiate off him in waves.

“Any chance you’d let me take my glasses off first?” Richie wheezes out. He knows the answer already but hey, guy’s gotta at least try. Sorry, mom.

“Shut your fucking mouth, faggot!” Bowers seethes.

Richie feels Belch and Victor’s grip tighten so that he won’t fall. This is it; this is going to be the story of how Richie Tozier dies. Or at least how he got the shit kicked out of him so badly he’ll probably be pissing blood over the next few days. Doesn’t change the end result really, this is going to hurt like a motherfucker.

Balling up his fist again, Bowers pulls his shoulder back, ready to strike with intent to open up a world of pain.

Bracing himself once again for a punch in the face, Richie shuts his eyes tight and turns his head away.

_I’m sorry, Eddie,_ he thinks suddenly.

“Hey! What the hell are you doing?” A somewhat familiar male voice calls out. The blow from Bowers never lands and Richie is silently thanking the universe and Captain America’s abs for the rescue.

A teacher with a long neatly styled beard and glasses steps out from the side entrance, leaving early for the day. He stands there looking at Richie being held against the wall and Bowers in front of him now no longer poised to strike.

“Nothing,” Bowers says as casually as he can, but Richie can tell that he is fuming inside at being interrupted.

“Doesn’t look like nothing to me, Henry,” the teacher, Mr Evins, says sceptically. “Why aren’t you in class?”

“Free period. We’re going home,” Bowers says, playing along.

“Right. So get going,” Mr Evins says with a warning edge to his voice. “You’re already treading on some thin ice here.”

Bowers nods and looks at Belch and Victor. They let Richie go and he wobbles but thankfully doesn’t fall. He leans back on the wall for support. The Bowers gang makes a hasty exit towards the student parking lot. Richie almost puts up a hand to wave goodbye and wish them a lovely afternoon when a sudden loud voice in his head yells, _DON’T POKE THE FUCKING BEAR, YOU DIPSHIT_.

Mr Evins comes over to Richie. “And why aren’t you in class?”

Richie gulps in a shaky breath. “Had to check in with the nurse.” He digs around in his pocket for the slightly crumpled note he was given a few minutes ago. He hands it over to Mr Evins to read.

“Okay, Richie. But next time just go straight to class, okay?” Mr Evins hands him back the note, frowning. “They didn’t hurt you, did they?”

“Nope. Just some friendly conversation between friends,” Richie tries to sound chipper but fails. He straightens his glasses and stands up straight, his stomach protesting in pain.

“Get to class, Richie.”

“Will do!” And he does. Grabbing his backpack and picking up his fallen phone—no cracks on the screen, thank fuck—he bolts in through the side door of the school and down the hall to his class.

All in all the whole interaction took less than five minutes so he’s still within his not so legal window of time to get into any real trouble. Richie’s stomach aches and his chest hurts, but for different reasons. Bowers has always been a homophobic piece of shit, but this time it really seems to get under Richie’s skin. Why did he feel this sudden shame and weirdness inside? Why did he suddenly think of Eddie right before he thought his world was going to come crashing down?

Fuck Bowers. Fuck this town. Fuck everyone.

Blinking, Richie manages to get his breathing under control. At least he isn’t crying. Coming back to class with obvious evidence that he had been crying would be icing on the cake to his now shitty afternoon. He wouldn’t be able to take the worried eyes of his friends looking at him all throughout class. Steeling himself, Richie pushes open the door to the classroom and steps inside. All eyes turn to him as he enters. It’s only natural for people to be curious about who comes into the classroom when everyone is already there, but Richie really wishes it wasn’t. Nothing to see here folks, just an idiot not paying attention arriving to class.

“Note on the desk, please, Mr Tozier,” Mr Whitley, the history teacher instructs. “Take your seat.”

Richie does as asked and sits down gratefully at his desk, the tension in his limbs releasing slightly. He’s reaching in his backpack for his books when suddenly a hand holding a clean tissue appears in his field of vision. Jerking away he realizes it’s just Eddie, who sits next to him in history, is passing him a tissue. Mr Whitley is facing the front of the board, writing down important dates of some important event that everyone is pretty sure they won’t remember by the end of the day.

Arching an eyebrow in confusion, Richie takes the tissue and mouths, “what?” while shaking his head.

“You’re bleeding!” Eddie says so softly that Richie almost doesn’t hear and points to Richie’s right forearm.

Sure enough, as Richie looks at his arm there’s drying blood smeared across it. He must have scraped it when Bowers shoved him down on the ground. He presses the tissue to the scrape; even though it’s so minor it doesn’t really warrant it. Richie doesn’t care. This is Eddie and Eddie cares. If he didn’t at least do that he would hurt his friend’s feelings.

“Thanks,” Richie whispers back, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

Eddie nods, his brows furrowed, dark brown eyes full of worry, wanting to know what had happened.

He could make out Bill, sitting two rows over, watching them from the corner of his shitty vision. He obviously noticed something has happened too.

“Later,” Richie whispers quickly before their teacher turns around.

Eddie gives Richie a supportive smile, eyes softening, already guessing at what probably happened and whom he ran afoul with. He focuses back up to the front of the class leaving Richie to get the rest of his books out of his bag.

Richie’s gaze lingers a moment longer. His chest is a hundred tons lighter with that one small gesture from his friend. Richie feels like he could take on twenty Bowers all at once with one hand tied behind his back. 


	3. Eddie, 14 years old

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> His mind empties and narrows down to this moment. The rushing air in his ears, the blur of colours, the sound of deadfall crunching under his feet. He feels like he can almost fly. Run so fast he can outrun this town and all the hatred and repressed bullshit that it still has its teeth sunk into.
> 
> “Eddie!” His name being called seems to come from underwater, distorted and muted. He’s not sure who it is, Stan maybe? Or Richie? Either way, he lets the wind take his name away as his feet continue to soar over the ground.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter warnings: Henry Bowers, homophobic language, verbal and physical bullying
> 
> [Artwork for this chapter be seen here](https://reddiebang.tumblr.com/post/624045832790048768/eddiemedley-this-is-my-art-piece-for-the)

The Bowers gang are in fine form this mid-September afternoon, managing to corner Richie, Eddie, Bill, and Stan as they make their way between the baseball field and Tracker Brother’s Trucking en route to the Clubhouse. 

The hairs on the back of Eddie’s neck stand up in anticipation right before Henry Bowers comes sauntering out from under the bleachers, flicking the butt of his cigarette to the ground. Eddie’s mind immediately goes to wildfires starting as Bowers doesn’t bother to crush the cigarette out under his shoe. It has been a very dry and hot summer in Derry this year.

Victor Criss, Belch, and Patrick Hockstetter follow Bowers as per usual since the four of them combined only share one brain cell.

Eddie, Richie, Stan, and Bill ignore Bowers and continue walking, somehow hoping that they have turned invisible.

“Hey faggots,” Bowers sneers at the four of them. Honestly, the slur from Bowers got old years ago. He hasn’t had the brain capacity to update any of his vocabulary to try anything new. Pretty much everyone Bowers hates (which is everyone) he calls a faggot and thus the insult got old really fucking fast.

Eddie resists the urge to turn his head at the offensive words and instead glances sideways at Richie and Stan. Stan is his usual tight-lipped self and he can practically see the inner workings of Richie’s mind buzzing in a thousand different directions to make a comeback. But since Richie’s run-in with the Bowers gang at school last spring, Eddie’s noticed that Richie has been holding his tongue more around them. Richie said something about not wanting to poke the bear, which Eddie thinks is actually pretty mature for Richie. 

Head down, Eddie grips his backpack straps tighter on his shoulders, hoping again that they will get out of this situation unscathed. But who is he kidding? Hard, quick footsteps are heard and suddenly he’s being yanked backwards violently by his backpack. He yelps in surprise, stumbling with the sudden pull and trips over his own feet, landing on his butt. 

“Fuck you, Bowers!” Eddie spits out, wincing slightly at the pain that shoots up his lower back.

“You fucking bastards!” Richie practically growls.

“Wh-what the f-f-fuck?” Bill gets out angrily.

Stan stays silent but narrows his eyes at Bowers in disgust.

Eddie looks up at Bowers who is smiling that signature cruel smile at his friends. “I said ‘hey’ and you little shits didn’t even bother to fucking reply? That’s pretty fucking rude!”

With Bowers attention focused on the other Losers, Eddie pushes himself up off the ground, his butt stinging from the impact. But not before palming a small stone in his hand. Glaring at Bowers, he stands next to Richie. “Fuck you, Bowers!” Eddie repeats. It wasn’t the most original thing to say but it was an accurate sentiment.

“Shut up, fag!” Bowers spits at Eddie. He catches Richie visibly tensing out of the corner of his eye. The urge to hold his arm out in front of Richie to keep him from doing something dumb overtakes Eddie. He just knows Richie wants to throw himself at Bowers and start something. Probably because of what happened last spring and because of Bowers being a human cesspool.

“Mm-make up yu-yu-your f-f-fucking mind,” Bill stammers angrily, his face heating up, fists clenching. Bill’s stutter always gets worse when he is upset or under stress. It is natural to the Losers now, but not everyone is so forgiving. The Bowers gang definitely being among those unforgiving types. As Bill speaks the bullies snicker while Belch does a disgusting impersonation of Bill. 

“Sh-sh-sh-shuh-uh-ut uh-uh-up,” Belch mocks and laughs. Hockstetter and Victor laugh loudly and begin stuttering all their words in gross mocking tones.

Bill’s face darkens with anger and shame. The need to scream at them to stop is caught inside his mouth as his brain holds the words’ hostage. Bill quickly glances at Eddie for some kind of comfort knowing he’s not alone. Eddie understands completely.

Eddie’s anger and need to defend his friend flares hot in his chest. Being bullied for his stutter all his life by peers and even shitty adults, Eddie has seen first hand what Bill has had to endure. Eddie is Bill’s oldest friend. He’s witnessed the mocking and taunting of Bill’s stutter since he was a small child. He’s witnessed the tears shed by Bill as he tries to hide his hurt and shame. And even though Bill has tried his best over the years to let it roll off his back it is still not okay. No one makes fun of his friends like this. Not one fucking person, especially Bowers. Eddie balls his hands up in anticipation; the small stone, his secret weapon, still clenched tightly in his fist. 

“SHUT THE FUCK UP YOU MENTALLY DERANGED SHITSTAINS! YOU THINK YOU’RE SO FUCKING BIG AND POWERFUL WHEN REALLY YOU’RE JUST PIECES OF SHIT THAT YOUR PARENTS SCRAPED OFF THEIR SHOES BUT COULDN’T THROW THE FUCK OUT BECAUSE IT WAS THE LAW NOT TO! ” Eddie shouts over the Bowers gang ugly laughter.

Immediate silence cuts through the air as if an invisible finger presses the pause button on a fucked up laugh track. Seven sets of eyes all focus on Eddie. The intense need to crawl into the earth and never return hits him hard. It’s definitely his turn to poke the bear and he does not want it. Where is the option to un-poke the bear, dammit?

“Dude,” Richie exhales in wonder, grinning at Eddie. He nearly raises his hand to give Eddie a high five, but miraculously holds back.

“Holy shit,” Stan whispers to himself, staring owl eyed at him. 

All Bill can do is look at Eddie with a dumbfounded expression. 

Steeling himself for imminent death, Eddie holds his position and doesn’t flinch as Bowers slowly moves towards him, face dark and eyes empty of everything except hatred. The need to hold Richie back seems to flare up inside Eddie again, but he can’t pinpoint why. Who was he, Richie’s keeper all of a sudden? Well, yeah, he kinda always has been. All his friends were in a way.

“Say. That. Again.” Bowers voice is deadly calm and eerily quiet as he stops a couple of feet away from Eddie. “And then you and your fucking faggot friends are dead.” 

Comforting warmth settles over the skin of Eddie’s left forearm and hand. He doesn’t need to look down to see that it’s Richie, who is now standing so close beside Eddie that their arms almost touch. The warmth radiating from Richie’s skin gives him strength and comfort. He can hear the crunch of Stan’s shoes on the gravelly road taking position behind him, literally having Eddie’s back. Bill takes Eddie’s right side so that his friends now surround and protect him. Eddie feels as if he can take on Godzilla barehanded now. Bowers gang who? Don’t know them.

“Yeah,” Eddie begins, licking his lips nervously, and silently throwing out prayers to whoever will listen. He feels his throat begin to tighten, his lungs struggling to get enough oxygen. His inhaler is in his right-hand pocket, but to retrieve it would mean revealing the ace up his sleeve. He’d have to do without for now. 

_Be brave, Kaspbrak,_ he thinks. 

He clenches his hand tighter around the small stone, it’s rough edges cutting into his palm. “I said…'' he pauses to gather his last bit of courage, unconsciously brushing his fingers lightly over Richie’s knuckles as he does. “I said _RUN!_ ” He screams out, voice nearly cracking on the last word.

Lightning quick Eddie raises his fist with the stone and hurls it in the direction of Bowers face. He has no time to look if it hits its target or not because he’s turning so fast the world is a blur. “ _RUN!_ ” he screams at Bill, Stan, and Richie. They don’t need to be told twice and the four of them begin a hard and fast sprint away from the Bowers gang. 

He’s hoping that the shock of Bowers being hit in the face with a rock would throw the bullies off and let them escape. Eddie’s right, Bowers is too distracted by the immediate shock of getting a rock to the face while the other three are too dumb to think for themselves to start the pursuit.

Richie, being Richie, can’t help himself and stops mid sprint, turning around to throw up two middle fingers at the stunned Bowers gang. “See ya, motherfuckers!”

“ _RICHIE!_ ” Stan shouts back over his shoulder and Richie immediately turns again and starts sprinting. 

Eddie takes a quick glance back as he sprints towards the cover of the Barrens. They’ve barely put thirty feet between them when Bowers finally gets his stupid brain together, screaming at his friends to go after them. Victor and Hockstetter take the lead while Belch follows. 

“YOU MOTHERFUCKERS ARE GOING TO PAY!” Bowers screams after them with the utmost rage.

Eddie knows without a shred of doubt that they all would, especially him, but first, they would have to catch them. Wild underbrush and trees bracket Eddie on all sides as he sprints into the Barrens, the world around him a blur of various greens and browns. The Losers have the advantage in here; they know the Barrens as well as if it were home to them. The Bowers gang does not. 

Eddie hears the loud cracking of breaking foliage and swearing of Victor and Hockstetter as they clumsily make their way in for pursuit. Already they are falling behind. Eddie thinks he hears a hard thud and muffled cursing, but doesn’t dare look back to confirm.

The Barrens holds out its arms for them, enveloping them in its wild and tangled world. Eddie feels the burn in his chest, his breath coming out in wheezing gasps as he plunges deeper into the Losers world. Oddly he isn’t concerned about being caught now, he knows that the Bowers gang can’t keep up here. He hears his friends running nearby behind him, breathing harshly and Richie swearing each time he almost trips over his own two feet or gets a branch to his face.

 _Richie, you’ll be fine_ , Eddie wants to tell him but can’t. He pushes on, gaining speed and flying over the ground. His wings aren’t clipped here; they’re full and wide, letting him soar over the rough and uneven ground. He breathes in harshly, his lungs trying to expand to their full capacity, but they can’t. How much faster could he go if he didn’t have this fucking asthma? But still, Eddie runs, his legs pumping, his backpack bouncing violently against his back. 

His mind empties and narrows down to this moment. The rushing air in his ears, the blur of colours, the sound of deadfall crunching under his feet. He feels like he can almost fly. Run so fast he can outrun this town and all the hatred and repressed bullshit that it still has its teeth sunk into.

“Eddie!” His name being called seems to come from underwater, distorted and muted. He’s not sure who it is, Stan maybe? Or Richie? Either way, he lets the wind take his name away as his feet continue to soar over the ground. 

_Run, Eddie. Run far and run fast so that you can be true to whom you really are._

He’s unsure where the voice comes from. His subconscious? His heart? The universe? He doesn’t pause to consider; he just knows that the voice is right and he has to keep running. 

Chest burning and legs straining, Eddie practically explodes from the underbrush in a whirlwind, entering the small clearing where the Clubhouse is. He hasn’t even realized he’s here until his feet hit the hard surface and slightly bowing wooden boards underneath his steps tell him where he has ended up.

Stopping at the edge of the clearing, he bends over shakily gasping for breath. His lungs burn and his throat feels tight again now that he’s stopped. Air narrowly moves down his throat and he begins to wheeze, sounding almost like a kettle on the verge of boiling. The feeling of flying and being free drains out of Eddie as his breathing gets more staggered and erratic. He fucking hates this. Hates this feeling of reality and his shitty medical limitations.

For whatever unknown reason a memory from when he was a young boy accompanying his mother on errands surfaces to his brain as he tries to quell his anger.

_“Why can’t I run, mommy?” A six-year-old Eddie looks up at his mother as he watches a small group of kids play soccer in the park._

_“You’re too delicate, Eddie-Bear,” Sonia says, smiling down at her son, squeezing his hand softly. “Your lungs weren’t built for running and playing like that and if you do you’ll hurt yourself.”_

_“Oh,” is all Eddie can say, but something inside him wants to tell his mommy that she is wrong._

Quickly he retrieves his inhaler, presses it to his mouth and hits the button. The small whoosh of the medicine being released fills Eddie’s ears and he inhales as deeply as he can. Within seconds his throat feels less constricted, his lungs less angry and able to expand allowing more air to flow in. His whole body begins to relax with the familiar sensations of medicated safety. 

He’s still breathing heavily from his run, but he is in control now, not his asthma. The kettle has not had a chance to boil over.

Eddie shrugs off his backpack, letting it fall to the ground with a dull thud. This is when he realizes he’s alone. Richie, Stan, and Bill have still not appeared. Maybe they didn’t come this way? Eddie had been so lost in his feelings of running that he didn’t notice how close or far his friends were. His gut is telling him to go back and find them, to make sure they’re okay, but his head tells him to stay put. They were headed here anyway. They would show up soon. Rational Eddie wins again.

Trudging over to the Clubhouse he lifts up the trap door. None of the other Losers are here right now. Mike needed to help his father with some farm equipment after school, while Ben offered to help Beverly find some research at the Derry Library for her upcoming project on Harriet Tubman. The history project that Eddie should start on as well, now that he thinks about it. 

It’s just going to be Eddie, Richie, Stan, and Bill at the Clubhouse today. The original four as Richie liked to joke about sometimes. But now that their group is seven it feels right somehow like it has always meant to be that way. They are stronger together like this. Able to face the world and its seemingly dumpster fire of society.

Eddie is halfway down the ladder when he hears his name being called again. Scrambling back up and out of the Clubhouse he cups his hands around his mouth calling back in the direction he exploded from the trees, “I’M HERE!”

He faintly hears a “thank fuck” and immediately knows that it’s Richie. He smiles to himself, feeling kinda warm inside that Richie is relieved that Eddie is okay.

Well, Eddie sort of misses the mark on that one as Richie, Stan, and Bill come clumsily walking through the underbrush, entering the clearing. Richie, practically ripping off his backpack and flinging it into a bush, spots a clear patch of ground and flops down hard, staring blankly up at the sky. The only thing moving is his chest, as he takes in large gulping breaths. Stan and Bill stand nearby in not much better shape. Bill’s bent over hands on his knees, taking large gulping breaths of air. Stan seems to be the least out of breath, but his cheeks are flushed red from exertion.

Eddie looks down at the loudly dressed slug that is Richie and realizes that he may have left them in the dust a bit. He didn’t mean to but feels a bit guilty nonetheless. He tells them this.

“A bit in the dust?!” Richie exclaims between deep breaths. “Eddie, you were fucking Sonic the Flash Hedgehog there, what the fuck?” 

“How the hell did you do that?” Stan asks.

“Um, I just ran?” Eddie suddenly feels as if he’s done something wrong. Were his friends angry with him? “Look, guys, sorry if I—“

“N-n-no,” Bill breathes out shakily, but he’s smiling in Eddie’s direction. “Eddie, th-th-that was a-amazing. I didn’t n-n-know you could ru-ru-run like that!”

“You’re not upset?” Eddie feels surprised and a little proud that he’s surprised Bill in a good way. He’s always looked up to Bill since they were small and now Bill was smiling at him looking proud as if Eddie had revealed some kind of superpower.

“Fuck no, Eddie,” Richie exclaims without moving. “Okay yeah, maybe a bit because I can’t fucking move.”

“Dude, we’re not upset,” Stan reaffirms, but eyes Richie, giving him a silent beep beep message. “We’re impressed. How the fuck have we never seen you run like that, not even in gym?”

Now Eddie is smiling wide at his friend’s awestruck words, well most of the words. Richie is just cranky about actually using his body for physical exertion. “My mom had a talk with the gym teacher when we all started at Derry High.”

“Ah.” Bill nods in understanding. “I’m s-s-sorry, Eddie.”

“Nah, it’s okay, Bill.” Eddie shrugs, feeling a familiar frustration inside. All too soon his wings are clipped again.

“The fuck it is!” Richie actually moves his head so that he’s looking in Eddie’s direction. His stupid coke bottled eyes stare angrily up at him. But Eddie knows that the anger Richie is displaying isn’t directed towards him. “You should be a motherfucking Olympian or something. Dude, you practically left us to die, you were so fast.”

“Beep beep, Richie,” Stan sighs.

“No, it’s okay, Stan. I did kinda leave you guys hanging. But I also…” Eddie looks around trying to put words to what he had felt minutes ago. “I also somehow knew you would all be okay.” It isn’t the most eloquent way to put it, but it’s all Eddie can come up with.

“Th-th-that’s fair, Eddie. I think Hockstetter and V-vic-victor gave up pretty qu-quick.” Bill slides his backpack off his shoulders and lets it fall to the ground. Stan does the same, only with a bit more care.

“Those dickwads could never keep up with us in the Barrens. Pretty sure I heard Victor trip and fall on his dumb fucking face and start crying,” Richie laughs with a mischievous look in his eyes magnified by his ridiculous glasses. He moves his body into a sitting position; a few leaves and deadfall follow, sticking to his shirt. Brushing them off he pauses to look up at Eddie with a thoughtful expression.

Eddie isn’t sure if he likes that or not. Richie thinking can be dangerous.

“Dude, you should totally run track,” Richie announces.

This isn’t what Eddie expected at all. “Huh?”

“Track. You. Run. Forrest Gump it up.” Richie gets to his feet and adjusts his glasses. “You would totally murder the competition.”

Eddie’s knee jerk reaction to Richie’s words are a big ‘fuck no, you have met me, right?’ But something in his gut is leaping at the idea like an overexcited puppy. “You know I can’t, Richie.”

“Why not?” Stan asks genuinely bewildered.

“Yeah, why the fuck not?” Richie echos.

“Guys, I have asthma. There’s no fucking way. Also, you’ve met my mother—“

“Unfortunately,” Richie mutters, rolling his eyes.

“And if you think she’d give me permission then you’re insane.” A low burn of resentment engulfs Eddie as he voices these feelings about her. There is no way in hell she would allow Eddie to run track. ‘Too delicate’ she would tell him and then grill Eddie about who put that idea into his head and how irresponsible it was of them to do so. If Eddie wants to run track then he should at least be allowed to make that decision for himself.

“I mean, yeah, your mum would pitch a fucking fit,” Richie agrees, “but fuck, man, you were amazing there. You should do it regardless!”

Why is Richie pushing the matter? Despite all the annoying and gross mom jokes that Richie likes to annoy Eddie with, he knows Richie isn’t a fan of hers. None of the Losers are, really. Eddie understands why and sometimes agrees, but she is still his mom and he loves her. Since the death of his father, he is the only thing left for his mom to be truly happy about. Even if her methods of parenting are frustrating and seem way too controlling at times, Eddie doesn’t want to fight. He’d much rather keep his head down despite the growing frustration and resentment towards her.

Stan, who finishes typing something into his phone, taps the screen and holds it out for Eddie to take. “Here.”

Taking Stan’s phone, Eddie looks down. A woman with dark skin and a large, bright smile fills the screen. Underneath the picture, there’s a name: Jacqueline Joyner-Kersee. Before Eddie can open his mouth Stan answers his question.

“She’s a six-time Olympic medallist and is considered one of the best athletes in the world. She has severe asthma. Or had, I’m not sure how that goes.” Stan shrugs a little apologetically. “Point is, Eddie, you can totally run track if you wanted.”

Blinking down at the screen, Eddie scrolls slowly, reading over the bullet points of Jacqueline Joyner-Kersee’s career. It’s extensive and beyond impressive. The list of medals, especially gold medals, that she’s won make Eddie pause. A mix of confusing emotions well up inside him. He can’t explain what they mean exactly, but he knows that they’re not all good. 

So if she has asthma and did all this…

Richie comes to stand beside Eddie, looking down at the screen. He blows a low impressed whistle as he reads the list of accomplishments. “Damn Eds, that totally could be you!”

Could it?

“Bullshit,” Eddie scoffs, quickly handing Stan back his phone. Bill leans in to have a look at her profile.

“I agree w-w-with, Richie,” Bill says, not looking up from Stan’s phone.

“Hells yeah,” Richie congratulates himself.

“You t-t-totally c-could,” Bill continues, ignoring Richie, “I mean if that’s what y-y-you wanted.” 

Bill gives him a smile and Eddie’s heart gives a little twist. If Bill really thinks he could do this as well as Richie and Stan then maybe…

“I dunno,” Eddie huffs, clearly agitated. “Maybe, yeah. Fuck.”

Richie cocks his head to the side slightly in question, clearly not understanding why Eddie would be upset. “I mean we’re not forcing you or anything, dude.”

“I know, I know,” Eddie sighs. “I just… it’s complicated.”

They all give Eddie a slight nod in understanding. 

“We know,” Stan says softly.

“I like running,” Eddie confesses. He faces each of his friends in turn, blushing slightly. “Sometimes when I come to the Barrens to meet you guys I’ll take the long way and run before I get here.” He doesn’t do it often, but when Eddie does he feels lighter and happier. Somehow letting them in on this private little detail of enjoyment gives him more strength. The more negative feelings start to vanish and a newfound determination begins growing inside. 

“Track star Eddie Kaspbrak in da house!” Richie grins, practically bouncing on his feet. “Eds, if you need a manager let me know. I’ll totally get you the best sponsors, maybe Nike. D’you want Nike? Oooh, we’d get so much free sh—“

“Beep beep, Rich,” Eddie says rolling his eyes. “It probably won’t even happen.”

“Mmm, I’d say otherwise,” Richie hums, a sly smile on his face. 

“Whatever, dude.” Eddie eyes Richie almost suspiciously. The way Richie is looking at him is slightly unnerving. It’s almost as if Richie knows something he doesn’t. Eddie wants this whole topic to be dropped. He isn’t going to run track. How can he? His mother would never allow it. And then his asthma… but Stan just showed him proof that people could indeed do sports, especially track and field with his condition. He’s never had cause to question his mother about his asthma, he’s had it since before he can really remember and trusts her and the doctors.

More uncertainty bubbles inside Eddie as he moves to the opening of the Clubhouse to climb down inside. 

If people with asthma could really do sports like that and excel then why has his mother told him otherwise? Maybe she is mistaken? 

But somehow Eddie knows that isn’t it. His mother is all about facts and solutions, especially when it comes to Eddie’s health. He hears the facts constantly and suffers the solutions on a regular basis. 

So if his mother knows all the facts about his asthma then why has she lied? And if she was lying about this then what else, if anything, could she be lying to Eddie about?


	4. Richie, 15 years old

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _I can’t be without him,_ Richie thinks. The emotion is so intense, like being pulled under by a riptide and carried out to sea.
> 
> Now it’s Richie’s turn to blush. He can feel his face heat up and heart go from fluttering to hard pounding. This was something, well not exactly new, but not to this extreme. He can’t quite look at Eddie as he settles in; their legs now tangled together, fingers just inches away from touching. Richie sucks in a shaky breath at the emotions consuming him. What is happening?

“Okay, asshole, times up! You’ve been in there twenty minutes!” Eddie marches up beside the hammock Richie is currently lounging in. He slowly lowers the issue of _Aquaman_ gripped in his hands, peering over the top of it, looking at Eddie’s annoyed face. His brows are scrunched and lips pressed in a thin line as he glares down at Richie. He thinks how adorable Eddie looks all annoyed and riled up like that.

Without saying a word, Richie raises the comic again to block Eddie from his view. Now things are going to get fun.

“Hey, I’m talking to you, dipshit!”

“Oh, I didn’t notice you there, Eds!” Richie cheerfully replies.

Not falling to the bait, Eddie narrows his eyes. “Very funny.” Eddie gestures stiffly at the comic Richie’s holding, punctuating each word with a dramatic poke to the back of it, making it impossible for Richie to continue reading. “We all agreed to ten minutes each. Mike followed the rules before you, so he’s not a selfish dick. Be more like Mike, Richie.”

“Hey don’t bring me into this, man!” Mike says quickly from across the Clubhouse where he’s sitting with Beverly. “This is between you two.”

Beverly, chin resting on her hand, grins over at the two of them, not saying a word.

Richie lets the comic fall from his grasp and rests it on his chest. He blinks up at Eddie and his heart does a little twist at the sight of him. He’s slightly flushed, something that happens to Eddie when he gets overwhelmed or annoyed, and his cheeks are puffed out as he holds his mouth in a tight line, not letting any air escape. Richie’s mouth nearly blurts out how cute he looks, not as a way to press Eddie’s buttons, but because Richie genuinely thinks so. Luckily his brain manages to throw a hook into those words and reel them in just as his mouth begins to open.

Instead, he opts for his usual Richieness. “It’s my birthday, Spagheddie! Can’t you have some compassion?” He pouts, batting his stupidly magnified eyes.

“Your birthday was five days ago, shithead,” Eddie deadpans, crossing his arms.

“So? In some cultures, there’s like a week or month-long celebration!”

“Name one.”

“Uhmmm, the Dothraki.”

For a moment Eddie is speechless, then, “THEY’RE NOT EVEN _REAL_!” He nearly shrieks, throwing up his hands.

“They are in our hearts, Eds. You just have to believe,” Richie says with fake conviction, placing a hand over his heart.

Shaking his head, Eddie mutters a “fuck this” as he throws a leg over and inside the hammock. Eddie getting in the hammock like this with Richie is nothing new. It’s become a ritual to them and the rest of the Losers. Richie will purposely hog the hammock just to piss Eddie off and Eddie will rise to the bait and chew Richie out for it. It always ends with the two of them jammed in awkwardly at opposite ends. Now with them getting older and getting taller, or in Richie’s case growing like a freakishly mutating beanstalk, there is less and less room for the two of them to fit nicely in place.

Once, Richie tried testing his hammock hogging limits with Stan but failed miserably when Stan grabbed one side and flipped Richie out of it onto his face. Now if Richie were ever in the hammock when Stan wanted it, Stan got it.

Richie tightly holds onto the hammock’s sides as Eddie hops in and not so gently shifts around to get into position. The hammock swings violently back and forth as feet are kicked and limbs used as low-grade weapons to make the other shift over to make more room. Richie’s heart flutters at the contact and enjoyment of watching Eddie grumpily cram himself in place. Something inside him becomes incredibly sad at the thought that one day they won’t be able to do this anymore.

_I can’t be without him,_ Richie thinks. The emotion is so intense, like being pulled under by a riptide and carried out to sea.

Now it’s Richie’s turn to blush. He can feel his face heat up and heart go from fluttering to hard pounding. This was something, well not exactly new, but not to this extreme. He can’t quite look at Eddie as he settles in; their legs now tangled together, fingers just inches away from touching. Richie sucks in a shaky breath at the emotions consuming him. What is happening?

Eddie is his best friend. Best friends love each other right? It’s natural, nothing weird about that. But that thought about not being able to be without him…

Luckily, Richie is saved from his own sudden teenage emotions of high strangeness and freaking out when the trap door to the Clubhouse is opened. Bill is at home looking after his brother Georgie while his parents are out and Stan is at the Synagogue helping his father so that only means one person.

Ben carefully steps down the ladder to the dirt floor and turns to all of them. Each Loser stares back at Ben. “What?” Ben asks nervously, unconsciously taking a small step backwards to the ladder.

“What’s the bag for?” Beverly asks with a smile, pointing to the duffle bag slung over Ben’s shoulder.

Ben blushes slightly and relaxes. He’s definitely had it bad for Beverly since he moved here and who can blame him? They all love Bev. But now it may be a bit different as Ben recently presented as an omega just last month. Richie doesn’t miss the way in which Ben reacts to Bev’s words. His new omega nature is probably just reacting to an alpha’s, but then again Ben has always been Beverly whipped. Richie smirks to himself; thankful he’s not in Ben’s position of being a lovesick puppy.

_Are you sure about that, Tozier?_

The thought pokes at the edges of his brain and he shoves it away, distracting himself with Ben and his new mystery duffle bag. “What’s in the baaaaaaaaaaaaaaaag?” Richie cries out dramatically with his best (and worst) Brad Pitt impersonation.

Eddie snorts a laugh and Richie’s heart does a little bounce of happiness.

“Uh, well,” Ben begins, pausing to look down at his feet nervously. “It’s for my track kit. I joined the track and field team!” He smiles nervously at them.

Total silence. None of the Losers expected this so it takes a moment for the news to force its way into their brains.

Ben is starting to look worried and hurt at the lack of response, but Bev saves them all. “Ben that’s wonderful!” She gets up and hugs him tight.

Richie has to bite his tongue at the way Ben’s face turns absolutely scarlet at the contact from Bev. He meets Richie’s eyes and the message is clear, “please don’t say anything, Richie, I beg you!” Yeah, Richie can be a dick sometimes, but he couldn’t do that to Ben. Poor guy is suffering enough.

Pulling away, Bev doesn’t notice or chooses not to notice the sudden flush on Ben’s cheeks.

“That’s awesome, Haystack! You aiming to be the next Usain Bolt or something?” Richie grins.

“Uh, no, not really,” Ben replies almost sheepishly. “I just… With everything that happened with Coach Woodleigh I need to prove him wrong, y’know?”

Richie and the others nod, knowing full well what went down that day when the Bowers Gang cornered Ben in the boy’s locker room. By some stroke of luck Coach Woodleigh had come into the locker room and prevented Bowers from seriously physically hurting Ben. Ben had been a mess from the Bowers Gang encounter, but the Coach wasn’t having it. Instead of helping Ben and making sure he was okay, he started in on him, telling him how disgusting Ben is and how he is wasting the body God gave him under all that fat. If Ben got what’s between his ears to go on a diet then he’d lose the weight. But boys like Ben never did and it disgusted Coach Woodleigh.

A fire was lit underneath Ben at the Coach’s little pep talk of utter bullshit and abuse. Ben promised Coach that he’d be sorry and prove him wrong. If he did succeed Coach would owe him a huge apology. Even more so than the official apology the school forced Coach Woodleigh to send to Ben and his mother after she filed a complaint with the school.

“Track and field sign-ups are this week,” Ben continues. “I wasn’t going to originally but Ms Caits caught me reading the information on the bulletin board as she walked by.” Ben smiles a little and seemingly cannot meet Bev’s gaze. “She told me she is coaching track this year since Coach Woodleigh can’t and that I should try out. So I did and I’m on the team.”

“That’s awesome, man!” Mike congratulates him. “You’re going to blow them all away.”

“I don’t know about that,” Ben laughs shyly. “But it’s worth a try.”

“You’re gonna fuckin’ kill it,” Richie states and glances at Eddie who is looking at Ben wistfully. He hasn’t missed how quiet Eddie has been with Ben’s news. Is he jealous? Eddie hasn’t talked about taking track or running since the day he pulled a Sonic the Hedgehog at the Barrens, but he could tell that Eddie has at least thought about it since.

“Thanks, Richie.” Ben smiles and turns his attention over to Eddie. “Sign-ups are open until the end of the week if you’re interested.”

“Huh?” Eddie blinks his large brown eyes in confusion. “Why would I do that?”

“Because you’re a fucking amazing runner, duh,” Richie explains while rolling his eyes. “You can’t deny it.”

“Fuck, not this again, Rich.” Eddie scowls in his direction. It’s a super cute scowl and Richie wants to reach over and pinch his freckled cheek. But he values having fingers and doesn’t feel like getting them bitten off today.

“Why not?” Ben asks.

“Dude, there’s this large problem of my mom,” Eddie huffs in annoyance. “How’s that going to work?”

“Tell her you joined the science club,” Mike suggests.

“Forge her signature on the permission forms,” Bev adds.

“You could wash your track stuff at my house,” Ben offers.

“See Eds? It’s totally doable!” Richie dramatically rubs his hands together as if planning some great con. “Okay, so we sign you up for ‘science club’. Then someone will have to try and join to get that permission form, yeah? Your mom would go for science, right Spagheddie?”

“Uhh, I’m not—“

But Richie continues without waiting for an answer. “She totally would. Whoever got hurt or died from science?”

“Marie Curie,” Bev interjects, sounding exasperated.

“Galileo,” Mike adds.

“Okay, so like _two_ people, whatever. Point is your mom would go for that rather than you risking lung and limb on track and field. So, permission for that should be good. You tell good ol’ Mrs K that you meet every…” Richie looks at Ben for help.

“Track meets are Tuesdays and Thursdays at three-thirty.”

“Great, so you’ll get your ‘science’ on those days, but really you’ll be at track practice. No one will be the wiser!” Richie beams. This is the greatest fucking idea in the history of ideas.

Silence.

Okay, maybe it wasn’t such a good idea after all. Eddie’s looking at him with a kind of ‘what the fuck are you on’ expression. Richie’s heart falls a little at the lack of enthusiasm, but he wants this so badly for Eddie. It’s not fair that Eddie should be denied something that he is obviously amazing at and enjoys. Of course, it is up to Eddie in the end, but Richie is determined to make it happen for him no matter what if that’s what Eddie wants.

“I mean, that is if you want to, Eds,” Richie says a little sheepishly, avoiding Eddie’s gaze.

Once again Bev interjects at the right time. She’s always really good at that, Richie thinks gratefully. “I know it sounds absolutely batshit the way Richie puts it, but honestly it could work.”

Eddie turns to her, frowning. “You’re really agreeing with this asshole?”

“Hey,” Richie pouts.

“We all love you, Eddie,” Bev continues, “you are an amazing runner and I think I can speak for all of us when I say that you deserve this. Your mom needs to back the fuck down and let you have something for yourself. It’s her fault that you have to go through such shit to do something like this, not yours.”

Queen Beverly Marsh serves the best tea there is. Richie wants to go and bow at her feet, but the hammock is too comfy. And he doesn’t want to spook Eddie or give him a reason to change the subject. He can see the wheels turning in Eddie’s mind right now, the constant fight to be a good son but also wanting to be an actual individual person that enjoys shit is constant torture for his Spagheddie. Richie’s heart aches for him. He only wants him to be happy. Happy Eddie means a happy Richie.

Eddie seems to weigh the options in his mind then a look of resolution and determination light up behind his big brown eyes. Richie’s breath catches in anticipation as Eddie opens his mouth. “All right. I’ll try out, but you guys gotta help me with this. If she fucking finds out, I won’t be let out ever again.”

The sad part is that Eddie isn’t kidding and they know it. But Richie is too overjoyed to worry about that right now.

“Dude! You’re going to fucking murder everyone on that team!” Richie brings up his hand for a high five then grimaces, remembering Ben. “Uh, sorry Haystack.”

Ben laughs not taking offence. “It’s okay, Richie, I know I’m not the fastest but having Eddie join would really help the team.”

Richie can’t help but think that Ben really means himself and not the team. Maybe Ben joining was the push that Eddie needs. Eddie has always been loyal to his friends on a feral mongoose level so it wouldn’t surprise Richie at all if that is part of Eddie’s reasoning. Ben and Eddie would help each other. It is almost poetic, Shakespearean really. Or it’s just bros supporting each other. Either way, it’s great.

A big ball of nervous and excited energy crackles inside of Richie’s chest. He focuses back on Eddie. “Okay, so where do we start?”

Eddie frowns in thought. “Well, obviously I have to try out first and make the team.”

“There’s no way you won’t,” Mike says as if it’s just fact.

Eddie smiles a little embarrassed. “Thanks, Mike. Then I guess try out and permission form? I know where mom keeps all her bills and stuff so I don’t think I’d have trouble finding something with her signature.”

“ _Excelente!_ ” Richie says with building excitement. “Mission Eddie Swift has begun.”

“Never say that again,” Eddie deadpans, levelling Richie with a disapproving look.

Of course, this means that Richie will use it always. Silly Eddie thinking he can tell Richie what to say and not say.

“You love it already,” Richie teases, sticking out his tongue.

“I hate you.” Eddie scowls, pressing his lips in a hard line, frowning.

Richie makes exaggerated air kisses and noises at Eddie in return.

“Uugh! Stop!” Eddie squirms in the hammock, trying to get as far away from Richie as possible. Which is kinda hard when you’re sharing a hammock.

Heart bouncing with excitement for his friend, Richie watches Eddie squirm. But when Eddie settles, Richie doesn’t miss the way Eddie is slightly bushing, causing his freckles to appear darker on his face.

_Cute, cute, cute! I want to kiss those!_

And there they were again, those feelings that suddenly came out of nowhere to sucker punch Richie with their intensity. They throw Richie for a loop and he can’t focus on anything except Eddie, his best friend. His best friend that he may not want to be just best friends with. Or is this just normal best friend shit? Fuck it is all so confusing.

Richie’s suddenly hyper-aware of how close he and Eddie are now. Limbs tangled together, his skin touching Eddie even though he’s fully clothed, and the warmth radiating from his body. His heart is pounding and his usual motor mouth is oddly out of horsepower.

Eddie’s talks with Ben, asking questions about track and what he should do about trying out. Richie hears the words but they don’t register, he’s too busy having a major life-altering moment.

The Losers continue to talk and iron out some of the finer details with Eddie. The lengths they are going for so that Eddie can run track is absurd, but then again Eddie’s mother and her treatment of Eddie are absurd. Bev is right, there is no one else to blame other than Sonia for this. The lengths that the Losers are willing to go for Eddie to be happy are many.

That’s what Losers do; they stick together and support each other to the end of the Earth and back.

After a long discussion and some freaking out on Eddie’s part about some of the finer details (such as ‘what about track meets outside of Derry High?’ Answer: science fairs at other schools. And ‘oh shit, doesn’t the uniform and stuff cost money?’ Answer: the Losers will pitch in to help with paying for that), they end the afternoon with Eddie promising to bring something with his mom’s signature over as soon as he can. If he makes the team, of course. They all roll their eyes at that.

As Richie goes to leave, Bev pulls him aside away from the others. “You okay?”

“What?”

“You were kinda spaced out for a while,” Bev says. “Figured you’d have lists and charts and pictures connected with string put up as we talked.”

“I’m fine, Pepe Silvia. Just tired.” Richie shrugs at Bev, but he can’t quite meet her eyes.

“Right,” Bev says, not convinced. “Rich, you know you can talk to me about anything.”

“Bye, guys!” Eddie interrupts them as he begins to climb up the Clubhouse ladder to leave. Richie’s full attention rests on Eddie as he begins his climb.

“See ya tomorrow, Eduardo!”

“Bye, Eddie!” Bev says at the same time Richie does.

Richie watches intently as Eddie climbs the Clubhouse ladder. He can’t take his eyes off of him. This weird feeling to make sure Eddie makes it out of the Clubhouse safe worms itself inside his gut. Eddie’s climbed up and down that stupid ladder hundreds of times so why the worry?

Richie doesn’t notice when Bev turns her attention back to him, smirking. The way Richie’s attention is focused on Eddie as he climbs the ladder is the only answer she needs to know. It’s all anyone needs to know if they were paying attention. But then again, these are all boys she hangs out with and a lot of the time a sledgehammer to the face wouldn’t even clue them in.

“Uh-huh, tired.” She says, smirking.

“Huh?” Richie turns back to her.

“Nothing. See ya tomorrow, Richie.”

Three days later and a new member of the Derry High School track and field team added, the Losers are all crammed around the coffee table in Richie’s living room. It’s too wet and cold out to meet at the Clubhouse so Richie offered casa de Tozier as an alternative. It’s his mom’s day to help at his dad’s orthodontist practice so there are no adult eyes around to witness the seedy illegal activities the Losers are getting up to. Namely forging Sonia Kaspbrak’s signature.

The day after the Clubhouse planning session Ben took Eddie to see Ms Caits about joining the team. She was thrilled to have Eddie try out and after witnessing Eddie do some sprints and other exercises on the field she said it would be a huge disservice to the team not to let Eddie participate. So that was that. Eddie’s track career has begun.

When Richie got Eddie’s excited flurry of texts telling him after he made the team he nearly threw his phone through his bedroom window as he fist-pumped into the air. There was no doubt that his Eds wouldn’t be able to do it, but he was still so relieved at the good news.

There was a small hiccup to their plan and that is science club. Turns out that joining it happens at the beginning of the school year so they were way past that deadline. Richie volunteered to be the pawn to join the club and was kinda surprised that they said they could maybe make an allowance for him to join so late in the school year based on his grades. However, that would mean discussing it with more faculty members and contacting his parents. It sounded too much for all this and Richie bowed out promising to get his shit together next year (as if).

After a lot of brainstorming via group chat, they all conclude to make up a fake permission form for Eddie to give his mom. A quick scan of the track and field form and some photo editing magic and it is good to go.

All the Losers wait patiently, except for Richie of course, while Eddie presented the idea to his mom. It took a lot of salesmanship on Eddie’s part but it worked, he was now an official member of the Derry High ‘science club’.

Now they’re all sitting around on the floor or on various cushions in the living room. Lots of pieces of paper are scattered around them as they all try and take a stab at trying to match Sonia’s weird loopy signature. Mike, Ben, and Bill are all cut first as they didn’t even come close after multiple tries.

“Honestly, Bev, I thought you would win this great honour,” Richie comments as he studies Bev’s sheet of signatures along with Eddie and Stan sitting across from him.

“Fuck you, Richie, that’s sexist.” Bev punches Richie in the arm where he then starts complaining about his baseball career being over.

Eddie, Stan, and Ben are all looking over the latest sheets of paper scattered in front of them on the coffee table, ignoring Bev and Richie. Bill and Mike wait for Eddie to pass over the new signatures for review.

“Fucking hell,” Eddie breathes out in disbelief.

“I’m so sorry, Eddie,” Stan consoles.

“It really does look almost identical,” Ben comments.

“Give it here,” Mike says, holding out his hand. Eddie hands the sheet of paper over and Mike holds it between him and Bill who’s sitting next to him.

“Wow, th-th-that’s the one for sure,” Bill says pointing to a signature on the page.

“What’s going on, ladies?” Richie asks, his attention returning to the group.

“You, asshole!” Eddie huffs in annoyance. He violently grabs the sheet of paper back from Mike and practically shoves it under Richie’s nose. “Fourth signature down, look at it.”

Richie takes the paper and scans the page looking at the signature. Glancing over to the open bill with Sonia’s signature on it to make sure, Richie is slightly shocked. It almost looks identical.

“Holy shit! I win!” Richie grins. “Damn, I’m good.”

“Here,” Stan says and slides a blank sheet of paper over to Richie. “Do it again to make sure. You can’t fuck this up.”

“Ye of little faith, Stannis.” But really Richie agrees. He can’t fuck this up, it’s too important for Eddie. Picking up a pen he presses it to the paper and begins to sign. He completes several more signatures before handing them over for review.

“Yeah, you’re the one with the closest signature,” Eddie says, almost a bit disappointed.

“I’m honoured, sir,” Richie says in his stupid British accent, bowing his head dramatically. “You have my pen.”

“Yeah, whatever Aragorn,” Eddie replies distractedly as he looks around for the track permission form. Pulling it out from under a small stack of used paper he hands it to Richie but doesn’t let go when Richie grabs hold. “Just… please don’t fuck this up.”

The anxiety behind Eddie’s large brown eyes almost makes Richie’s heart break a little. He knows it’s important to Eddie, but he didn’t really get just how deep this is for him until this moment. He can’t fail him. If he did he’d never forgive himself.

Without any hint of sarcasm or joking around, Richie gives Eddie his best reassuring smile. “I won’t, Spagheddie.”

Eddie lets the form go and sits back stiffly. His whole body is now as taught as bowstring and lips pressed in a hard line when he gets stressed. Richie better do this quick before he sends Eddie into a full-blown asthma attack.

The silence and all the Losers attention on him are slightly unnerving. He positions the pen over the track and field form and his hand shakes a little before pressing the pen down. Not missing the way Eddie involuntarily begins to wheeze and begins reaching for his fanny pack containing his inhaler. Richie has an idea.

“Maybe I should do this in pencil first then go over it in pen?”

“Good idea, Rich,” Bev says, catching on.

“Eddie, help a dude out and get me a pencil from the kitchen? Mom keeps some in the drawer below where the calendar hangs.”

“Okay!” Eddie nearly squeaks and practically rocket launches off the floor determined to go find the best pencil for the job.

“Thank fuck,” Richie exhales. A couple of the other Losers laugh a little to relieve the tension.

“Smart,” Stan says with approval.

Pressing the pen to the paper again Richie begins to sign. Seconds later Eddie is back in the living room with several pencils held in a white-knuckled death grip. “I dunno, Rich, these look pretty dull. You got a pencil sharpener or…” his words die off as Richie holds up the newly signed form, grinning like a loon. “Fuck you, Tozier!” Eddie cries, nearly snapping the pencils in half. “Why the fuck did you make me get these then?”

“To get you out of the room, dumbass!” Richie rolls his eyes. “It felt like I was at the mercy of the fucking Spanish Inquisition or something with you watching me!”

Eddie stays silent for a few moments as he digests why Richie did what he did. Body relaxing, he drops the pencils with a loud clatter on the coffee table. “Thank you, Rich. Really.”

“No worries, Eds,” Richie says with the biggest grin. He passes the form over to Eddie for inspection. “How’d I do?”

It’s almost comical how Eddie squints at the signature as he studies the paper. His face scrunches up slightly and the urge to kiss all of Eddie’s freckles punches Richie hard in the gut.

“It’s great. They won’t be able to tell them apart.” The way Eddie is smiling is so happy, hopeful, and elated that this batshit idea of theirs really can work out. The fact that he will be able to do something he genuinely loves makes Richie oddly emotional. This is what Eddie should feel like all the time.

“Thanks for all the help, guys,” Eddie says as he sits back down with the group. “I don’t know how I’ll be able to repay you.”

“Just get me some hookers and blow for my sweet sixteen, baby.” Richie winks.

“Nah, my mom doesn’t do birthday parties,” Eddie quips back.

Shocked silence fills the air, as the Losers can’t quite realize what Eddie has implied. Suddenly they all begin to laugh hard, with Bill leaning over and high fiving Eddie.

“Oooooh, buuuuuuurn,” Mike says in a fit of giggles.

“Oh my god,” Richie says, fake sniffling and voice trembling. He puts on a fake southern accent for flair. “Mah baby is growin’ up! C’mere and let mama love you!” Opening his arms wide he tries to tackle Eddie in a hug but the coffee table between them prevents it. Which is good because the look Stan gives Richie is a loud and clear ‘fuck no.’

“Beep beep, asshole!” Eddie laughs, his tongue sticking through his teeth like it always does when he’s laughing extra hard.

It’s the best sound in the world to Richie, something he can never live not hearing every day. Without any shred of doubt, Richie now knows with everything inside him that Eddie is more special to him than just his best friend.

It’s simultaneously the best and worst feeling of his entire life.


	5. Eddie, 14 years old

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “—she saves him! Next thing you know she’s bending him backwards like this,” Richie grabs Bev’s shoulder, turning her towards him. He places a hand on her lower back, pulling her close and before Eddie can realize what’s about to happen, Richie plants his lips on Bev’s.
> 
> Eddie’s heart stops dead as if it’s been in a head-on collision. His blood turns to ice water as he watches wide-eyed at how Richie’s lips connect with Beverly’s pink gloss-covered ones.

Eddie hates when Richie is right but there is no denying that he is murdering everyone on the track and field team of Derry High. It starts with Eddie practically annihilating the records for the indoor 60-metre sprint and then the 100-metre on the outdoor field. Eddie keeps telling everyone the records he broke weren’t that great, to begin with, but Ben always calls him out on it, telling the Losers he’s just being humble. Eddie blushes and tries to change the subject every time it’s brought up, which it often is by Richie.

With the outdoor track season winding down with the school year, Eddie can’t help but feel disappointed that his newfound love and to an extent some freedom will be over for the summer. When he runs his world is his own and no one else’s. No hyper-vigilant and overprotective mother, no Losers Club, no asthma, or anything else can penetrate this world of his. He loves it. It’s staggering how much he has come to love and crave this feeling as he runs. This is something for Eddie and Eddie only.

The Losers have also taken note of the way Eddie and Ben have changed in such a short amount of time. While Ben’s changes can be seen with the naked eye, Eddie’s weren’t as obvious at first until one day Richie brought the subject up.

“You’re different, Eds,” Richie says completely unprompted as the two of them make their way to the Clubhouse. The spring sunshine and fresh air giving the boys the first exciting hints of the summer to come. It’s making Richie a bit more bouncy than usual.

“Yeah right,” Eddie says unbelieving, rolling his eyes.

“No, dude, like,” Richie pauses searching for the words, “you just seem different.” He frowns in frustration at his lack of verbal skills on the matter.

“So helpful, Rich, you really nailed that on the head,” Eddie laughs and expects the subject to drop. It’s just another one of Richie’s fleeting thoughts that spill out of his mouth unprompted. He walks a few more feet before realizing Richie has stopped. Turning around he cocks his head to the side in confusion. “You okay?”

“You’re you!” Richie points a finger dramatically at Eddie, almost gasping looking at him; magnified eyes alight with triumph at his brain connecting the dots.

Eddie can’t help but think that Richie has had some kind of stroke. “Um, I’m always me, dumbass.”

“No, no, no,” Richie shakes his head while he takes several long lanky strides to rejoin Eddie by his side. “Like, you’re you. Just you. Not Losers Club Eddie or Eddie with the mother from _Psycho_ or Edward Kaspbrak. You’re Eddie. Just Eddie.” Richie grins stupidly as he unconsciously fiddles with a loose thread on his backpack strap.

Eddie side-eyes Richie as he thinks for a moment, trying to piece together what he’s said. On one level Eddie thinks it makes sense but on another, he thinks Richie may have had one too many energy drinks for the day. Richie plus energy drinks are always a dangerous combination. Eddie thinks the reason Richie’s mom and dad banned them from his home is that Richie would not shut up about anything and everything on a nuclear bomb level, nearly driving his parents insane.

“Uhh, thanks? I think.”

“No problemo, Spagheddie.” Richie bounces on his feet, tipping his face up to the sky, smiling. Eddie can’t seem to take his eyes off of the spot where Richie’s neck meets the underside of his jaw. He feels his face heat up and looks away, hoping Richie doesn’t notice anything.

After that weird and more than vague conversation with Richie, Eddie slowly begins to see what Richie means. It kinda clicks one day as he’s running a 100-metre sprint at practice. Richie had meant he is different in the way he acts and feels like when he runs. As if his own private world is beginning to bleed out into the real one, creating a more evolved and special Eddie. The realization feels kind of odd at first then strangely comforting. Maybe one day he can be his own private world Eddie on the outside rather than the delicate asthmatic teen with a mother who would take him to the doctor the moment he coughs or sneezes. Maybe Eddie can finally just be _Eddie_. Full stop. No additives or artificial flavours.

_Maybe there’s something bigger for me out there_ , he thinks. Like with many teenagers, Eddie only has a vague idea of what his future plans will be. He knows he’ll get through high school and graduate and then most likely go off to college, but then what? He has no real plan or long term goals because he’s never had any clear idea of what he wants; it’s always what his mom wants or what his mom plans for him.

One night while trying to fall asleep Eddie mulls over that wonderful life question ‘what do I want?’

_Richie._

Eddie huffs in frustration that Richie would be the immediate answer. Of course, it isn’t Richie he wants, he only thought of him because Richie is the last person Eddie messaged before going to bed. That is definitely the reason.

As Eddie dozes off his last thoughts are cursing Richie out for being a fucking alpha of all things. Eddie still has time to present, but a small seed of doubt and anxiety that he won’t settle in and take root. Alpha and beta relationships rarely last any significant length of time before the alpha’s instincts to claim an omega take over. But he doesn’t need to worry about that because why would he want to worry about dating an alpha anyway?

Eddie doesn’t realize the extent of how far the roots of that self-doubt and anxiety have grown until one day in early July when something akin to a rug being pulled out from underneath him happens.

School has only been out for a couple of weeks and already Eddie misses his regular track practice. Since the end of the season, he’s felt tenser and more agitated without it. His outlet for freedom is currently on hold and he doesn’t quite know how to deal with it. Of course, track will be there when school begins, Ms Caits already informing him that he’d be a guaranteed pick, so there’s no problem making the team again. But in the meantime, he is on his own.

With his days now on a much less structured summer routine schedule, he’s slowly starting to fully realize how suffocating and controlling his mother really is. He’s always known it and seen it first hand, but it’s always been blunted with that unconditional love and unquestioning nature of a child trusting that a parent knows what’s best. Now it’s like the blinders are slowly being lifted off and he’s starting to see the full extent of her influence and control. It’s been making Eddie’s skin crawl and has him feeling on edge.

It’s that on-edge feeling that won’t let go inside his chest as he walks down Center street to the Aladdin movie theatre with Richie and Bev. They’re meeting up with the other Losers to see the newest summer popcorn blockbuster and take advantage of the air conditioning the theatre so wonderfully provides at this time of year. The weather forecast has only said it’ll get hotter in Derry over the week.

Bev and Richie are up ahead of Eddie by a few feet. He’s not feeling in the mood to join in on their conversation so he doesn’t mind hanging back a bit. Richie is chattering away about movies of a similar genre they’re about to see and is gesturing wildly about some plot point or epic moment that happens. Eddie thinks he looks like one of those big air inflated tube men with all his gangly limbs being wildly flung about. Bev has to duck out of the way to avoid getting a noodly arm to the face, but she’s still laughing at Richie’s impressions regardless.

Eddie’s not really paying much attention to what Richie is actually saying; the weird and confusing emotions he has are too distracting for him to focus on anything much. Reaching down he unzips his fanny pack for what may be the hundredth time in the span of five minutes and grabs his inhaler. He’s not short of breath really, but that comforting feeling the cool hard plastic of the cylindrical inhaler helps release a bit of that tightness inside of him. Quickly stuffing it away again, Eddie zips the fanny pack back up, returning his attention to Richie and Bev in front of him.

“And _THEN_ the bomb does go off because no one competent apparently is on that mission with them and so the guy is fucking flung out the side of the building!” Richie excitedly babbles on about the movie. “But of course he manages to grab something before becoming a fucking street pancake so dude’s just hanging there unable to do anything. But all is cool because of Katniss—no wait, that’s a different thing, but fuck it I can’t remember her name—“

_Good job, dumbass,_ Eddie thinks, annoyed.

“—she saves him! Next thing you know she’s bending him backwards like this,” Richie grabs Bev’s shoulder, turning her towards him. He places a hand on her lower back, pulling her close and before Eddie can realize what’s about to happen, Richie plants his lips on Bev’s.

Eddie’s heart stops dead as if it’s been in a head-on collision. His blood turns to ice water as he watches wide-eyed at how Richie’s lips connect with Beverly’s pink gloss-covered ones.

The kiss is close-mouthed and lasts all of 0.008 seconds before Bev is shoving Richie off of her. She shrieks Richie’s name comically and laughs, making a show to wipe her mouth off with the back of her hand.

“Richie Tozier, that is so gross!” Bev swats hard at him.

Richie jerks back to avoid Bev’s hands with a huge grin on his face. “How else am I gonna get you to kiss me, Red?”

“Ask next time, you moron!” Bev’s still laughing, not seeming to be bothered by Richie’s little stunt in the least.

“Fuck, that’s it? I should have…”

The rest of the conversation fades like a radio station being tuned out. Eddie’s mind is racing from all directions trying to assemble the pieces of what he’s just witnessed. He knows it’s a joke. He knows it’s stupid. He knows Richie is just fooling around and being Richie. He knows that it can’t mean anything because Beverly is also an alpha.

_But, oh god, what if it’s not?_ His mind screams.

Rationally he knows all this, but all the thoughts in his mind are loud and chaotic. A single word keeps repeating itself over and over and over.

_No._

_No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no. Not this. Please no._

The sheer violence of how he is reacting to this little stunt scares the shit out of him. His heart seems to stutter back to life, only now it’s thundering inside him as if the dial has been turned up to full power. His chest is tight, a crushing weight seems to settle on it and he can’t breathe, his breath now coming out in short gasps. Frantically Eddie fumbles to open his fanny pack for his inhaler. What takes mere seconds seems an eternity, but then he’s clutching his inhaler like a lifeline, the only thing that can save him now.

The inhaler meets Eddie’s mouth and the button is pushed, releasing the medicine that comes to save Eddie every time without fail and judgement. Inhaling, Eddie’s eyes flutter shut as the medicine begins work at reopening his constricted throat and lungs. Within moments he’s feeling better, his throat isn’t as tight anymore and that crushing weight on his chest lightens bit by bit.

The hot July sun begins to warm the ice water that seemingly replaced the blood in his veins. Eddie doesn’t open his eyes; he stands there feeling the hot sun on him and listens to the noise of the people out doing errands and cars going by around him. He desperately tries to calm his mind down.

“Eddie, are you okay?”

It’s Bev. She sounds far away, her voice soft and almost dreamlike. Eddie opens his eyes, blinking in the harsh summer light, staring momentarily dumbfounded at Richie and Bev who are stopped several feet in front of him. Both of them have worried looks on their faces.

They come forward and Eddie cannot help but look at Richie’s lips and the faint coating of gloss that is now on them. His heart thunders inside his chest again and he wants to run. Run so far and fast away from these emotions that he feels like he might actually cry. What the actual fuck is happening right now?

“Eds?” Richie makes a move to put a hand on Eddie’s shoulder but drops it back at his side at the last second.

_But I_ want _you to touch me,_ Eddie thinks suddenly. He can’t believe it. Why did he think that?

“I, uhh,” Eddie begins, licking his lips nervously. He looks at Bev and her still worried expression. “It just hit me really hard,” he says quietly, almost ashamed. But what did hit him exactly? His reaction is so fucking powerful and weird, it doesn’t make sense.

Richie’s face brightens a little and he gives Eddie a soft smile. “Maybe it’s the humidity, Eds. Or allergies or something.” Of course, Richie would just chalk it up to Eddie’s asthma being a little bitch but in a way, Eddie is grateful for it. Richie can’t know the magnitude of nope about how Eddie felt at his little stunt.

But the look on Bev’s face says different. There’s almost sadness in her eyes as she smiles at Eddie. It’s like she can see underneath the wrapping that is Eddie and what is really inside. Eddie is both a bit uncomfortable but also comforted by this notion.

He knows at that moment that he won’t be able to hide anything completely from Beverly. Sure she’ll respect his privacy and not go pushing for answers, but the knowledge is still there. Just one person knowing something this personal and deep is hard as fuck, no matter how much you love and trust them. Eddie blushes, embarrassment creeping inside him replacing the visceral negative reaction that he had to the kiss. This whole situation is stupid.

“Sorry, I…” Eddie begins but trails off, not sure of what to say. He distracts himself by putting his inhaler away. Zipping up his fanny pack he looks back up.

“You sure you’re okay?” Richie asks, adjusting his glasses. His stupidly magnified eyes are still full of concern.

Eddie almost wants to begin screaming in frustration looking at him. Why the fuck do you care? Why do you look like that? Why did you kiss Bev even if it’s a stupid fucking joke? “Yeah, a bad asthma attack is all.”

“Do you want to go, Eddie? I can walk with you home or something if you’d like,” Bev offers.

Eddie can’t help but read between the lines of Bev’s offer but he can’t. He can’t let something stupid like this ruin the movie for the others. Also, what would he tell Bev when they were alone? Even he didn’t know what the hell was going on.

“Thanks, but I’m okay. I want to see the movie.” He tries giving Bev a reassuring look.

“You sure? You’re looking a bit… peaky.” Richie frowns, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his shorts.

“Who the fuck says _peaky_?”

“I dunno, the British?” Richie shrugs.

“Well, I’m not peaky, okay?” Eddie snaps. “I’m fine, so let’s go.” He begins to step forward but Richie doesn’t move out of his way.

“Seriously, Eds, it’s okay. We can bail on the others. They’d understand,” Richie says, the concerned look still there.

Eddie can’t be sure but the shifting energy from Richie from playful and chaotic to calming and reassuring seems to help lessen Eddie’s embarrassment. The problem now is that embarrassment has turned to anger and frustration. Frustration for Richie and anger for himself. It’s Eddie’s own personal hell of emotional bingo today apparently.

“No. I’m fine!” Eddie declares sharply, trying to convince both himself and the others. He rigidly sidesteps Richie, nearly knocking his shoulder into him and begins heading up the last couple of blocks to the theatre.

“But Eddie—“ Richie begins saying from behind and somehow knowing how not okay Eddie really is sets him off.

“Drop it!” Eddie turns to face Richie, who is now looking over Eddie with renewed concern. He feels his cheeks flush and his heart begins to race again. He hates this. He hates feeling like this.

“I’m fine, okay?” Eddie gestures sharply to his chest. “It’s this fucking asthma. You know how it fucking is with the humidity and pollen, and all that shit in the summer! It’s just stupid Eddie Kaspbrak’s fucking asthma ruining everything again!” His breath hitches on the last few words. Blinking, Eddie is mortified to feel the prick of tears in his eyes. Fuck.

“Eddie, you know that’s not what we think,” Beverly says calmly. She comes up to him, hand opening in an invitation for his. Eddie’s thankful that she didn’t offer a hug otherwise he’d probably fall into her arms and start crying. He doesn’t want to have to explain to Richie why he would be crying. Hell, he wasn’t even sure how to explain it to himself.

Placing his hand in Bev’s he’s comforted by the reassuring squeeze she gives him. Immediately he begins to feel a little calmer.

Richie stands awkwardly between them, obviously not sure what to say. He’s struggling with something, Eddie can tell, but right now Eddie can’t care. A small part inside him hurts that he can’t care for Richie’s feelings right now, but he’s kinda thankful that Richie’s mute setting is on otherwise he may actually slug him.

“Let’s get going, otherwise Stan may send a search party for us,” Bev jokes, rolling her eyes a little. Richie and Eddie both give little halfhearted laughs, easing some of the tension.

Still holding Eddie’s hand, Bev begins to lead the way to the theatre with Richie behind them.

In the short amount of time it takes them to walk a couple of blocks to the theatre Eddie feels marginally better. Still not great, but the whirlwind of emotions is definitely under control at the moment.

They meet Ben, Mike, Stan, and Bill outside the Aladdin’s entrance and get their tickets. The theatre is old, having been in operation since the late ’50s. It’s undergone several renovations over the decades, but the cracks and imperfections are starting to show more and more. The Losers love it though; the theatre has an energy about it that seems to be more welcoming to the misfits and less mainstream crowd of Derry. They all fit right in perfectly. Despite having the option to go to the modern megaplex near Bangor, they always opted for the Aladdin when they could.

Inside they pool their money together to get two big buckets of popcorn with lots of extra butter. They each buy their drinks and anything else they might crave and head up the worn carpeted stairs to the balcony seating. The balcony is the Losers’ favourite spot to watch movies. Not because it’s closer to the screen, but getting the front row meant they could stretch out and put their feet up. It also provided in movie entertainment as Richie liked flicking the occasional single kernel of popcorn over the balcony onto people down below and watches as the vein in Stan’s forehead grows bigger and bigger.

As they all try to shove their way in through the doors to the balcony seating at the same time, except Bev because she has a brain, Eddie feels a small tug on the back of his shirt. Turning around he finds Richie smiling a bit hesitant at him.

“What?” Eddie asks a bit too sharply and immediately regrets it with the way Richie pulls back from him, taking a defensive air.

“Uh, your Twizzlers?” Richie holds up a bag of the red candy, handing it to Eddie.

Frowning, Eddie takes the bag looking at the candy quizzically. “I didn’t get any.”

“Yeah, I know,” Richie says a bit awkwardly. He can’t seem to meet Eddie eye to eye as he speaks. “I just… you always get Twizzlers, Eds, so I, um, thought…” Richie finishes with a shrug.

Eddie stares at Richie, momentarily dumbfounded at the gesture. Richie’s right, Eddie always gets strawberry Twizzlers when they go to the movies. The candy has been one of his favourites since he was a young child. Since his mother doesn’t allow Eddie any of the sweets she keeps in the house Eddie always makes sure to make up for that with a bag at the movies. Often he has to smuggle the rest he doesn’t finish home under his shirt and hide them under his mattress, they then become this secret treat that is only for him to look forward to. He’s a bit surprised at himself that he didn’t get any this time. Obviously, he’s feeling out of sorts from earlier and forgot. But Richie noticed and got them for him anyway. Comfortable warmth creeps into his chest and he feels a bit ashamed at the way he snapped at Richie just now.

“Thanks, Rich,” Eddie says softly, genuinely touched that Richie did this for him. “Sorry about before.”

“Don’t be,” Richie says hurriedly, clearly trying to avoid the subject. “Just thought you’d want your Twizzlers is all.” He grins, his eyes nervously meeting Eddie’s and then darting away again.

They enter the dimly lit theatre and settle into the well-worn seats, the last two on the end of the row since they’re the last to follow. Eddie takes the one on the aisle and Richie sits beside him on Eddie’s right. 

Fumbling around in his fanny pack, Eddie pulls out a few dollar bills and some change. “How much do I owe you?” He asks Richie.

“Huh? Oh, no worries Spagheddie. My treat.”

“Richie…” Eddie says, annoyed, ready to force Richie to take his money. Despite Richie seemingly being raised by a pack of wolves (Maggie and Wentworth Tozier must be a front, Eddie has thought on more than one occasion) Eddie actually has some manners.

“Nah, really. You can just give me a kiss as thanks.” Richie smirks and waggles his eyebrows in what should be a suggestive manner but on him, it’s just comical.

Thoughts about repaying Richie vanish and for a second time in the space of less than an hour Eddie’s heart seems to meet a head-on collision. He opens his mouth but can’t get any words out. Did… did Richie just fucking say that?

Richie doesn’t seem to notice the second cardiac event of Eddie’s day and turns his attention to Stan sitting next to him on his right with the large bucket full of popcorn on his lap.

“Hey asshole, you’re dropping popcorn on me!” Stan complains as Richie reaches in the bucket, grabbing a huge handful of the buttery popcorn goodness.

“Dude, bring a bib next time,” Richie retorts, shoving as much of the popcorn as he can into his mouth, chewing loudly.

Stan makes a disgusted noise and begins picking up the dropped pieces of popcorn on his shirt, chucking them at Richie.

Normally this would be the time Eddie would intervene or complain about Richie’s barnyard-like eating habits and how he deserves being assaulted with popcorn, but he can’t. His brain is still stuck on that kiss comment. Richie’s said dumb shit like that before, but this feels different to Eddie. It feels… weird, but in a good/confusing way. Fuck, he wishes there was a guide or something to all this because he doesn’t know what to think.

He lets Richie and Stan continue with their popcorn war and doesn’t even notice when a kernel flies towards him and lands on his leg. He’s too distracted and overwhelmed to notice or care. Then the lights begin to turn off and the familiar message of ‘turn your phones to silent otherwise you’re the scum of society’ shows up on the screen. Eddie begins to relax, thankful that the movie is starting and he’ll have a distraction for the next couple hours. Sighing, he opens his bag of Twizzlers and takes one out, ripping it in half with his teeth, eyes focusing on the movie screen in front.

The movie is half over and Eddie is going over his legal options for committing homicide. Specifically Richie homicide. He doesn’t remember Richie being so fucking… wiggly. Sure, Richie has always had a problem with sitting still and being calm, but this is ridiculous. Even Stan has elbowed Richie in the ribs a couple of times now, hissing at him to stay still.

Richie’s arm brushes against Eddie’s for the fourteenth million time and Eddie nearly snaps at the soft warmth of Richie’s skin on his. His skin crawls at the sensation and Eddie can’t understand why. It’s all too much. Everything seems sharper and more intrusive against his senses. Earlier with the stupid kiss that he knows didn’t mean anything but the fear that it did still sticks unforgiving around his heart. The way everything Richie says or does right now is magnified by a billion, scraping along Eddie’s raw nerves in such an aggravating way that he could stand up right now and screech in Richie’s face about how stupid and annoying and wonderful he is. The way that Richie noticed him forgetting to buy his candy then taking it upon himself to buy it for him and the way he just gave it to him, all awkward and Richie like. It is infuriating.

Eddie tries desperately to pay attention to the movie but it’s not working. Right now he couldn’t tell who is who and why these aliens wanted this thing from that person or another person or whoever. This is a nightmare.

“Eds,” Richie whispers.

Eddie tries desperately to ignore him.

“Hey, Eds.” This time Eddie can feel Richie’s breath on his cheek as Richie leans over more.

Shutting his eyes and praying to god knows whom for strength, Eddie looks over with a scowl. “What?!” He hisses.

“Can I have a Twizzler?” Richie asks, making a hand gesture like a crab claw to emphasize wanting some of Eddie’s candy.

Without saying a word Eddie offers up the bag and Richie plucks a Twizzler out, sticking it in his mouth. “Thanks, Spagheddie,” he says, his voice muffled with the candy.

Eddie nods stiffly in reply and tries to focus on the movie again, but it doesn’t last long. Without warning, Eddie feels two fingers lightly brush the top of his arm. Immediately he looks at Richie, thinking he’s trying to get his attention again but what he sees gives Eddie pause.

Richie’s attention is utterly devoted to the movie, so why would Richie be touching him? Richie’s fingers are now trailing light circles over Eddie’s skin, giving him goosebumps. It’s both an exciting and puzzling feeling, the light pressure of those fingers making small trails that tingle on his skin after they have moved. Eddie swallows hard, unable to cope. And then he realizes what feels so off-putting more so than the skin to skin contact: Richie is completely still. He’s stopped fidgeting and constantly moving around in his seat.

It’s too much for Eddie. The emotions from earlier and the visceral reaction to that stupid fucking kiss begin hammering at his mind but for a different reason now. Eddie takes a shaky breath trying to calm himself but he can’t. He’s feeling too crowded, too suffocated, he has to get out of here. Eddie shoots up out of the chair, knocking Richie’s hand aside. Richie seems a bit shocked at his hand being knocked away and Stan looks up at him with the sudden movement, looking concerned. “I gotta go,” Eddie says in a rough whisper, turning up the aisle and nearly bolting for the doors.

“Eds!”

But he ignores Richie’s call and pushes through the heavy theatre doors into the hallway. He tries not to run down the stairs, his mother’s voice ringing in his head about breaking his neck if he trips and falls. He manages that successfully and then hurriedly finds the side exit of the theatre that opens into the alleyway between buildings. This is often a way the Losers use to sneak out whenever the Bowers Gang are in the building the same time they are.

Shoving open and stepping through the door, Eddie squints hard as his eyes adjust to the bright sunlight. Looking around the trash littered alleyway, Eddie is relieved to find himself alone. He can’t deal with anyone at the moment.

His phone vibrates as a new text arrives. He doesn’t want to talk to anyone right now, but he has to tell someone something otherwise the Losers would come looking. Part of him appreciates and loves them for it, but the need to be alone right now to figure this out outweighs that.

Opening his phone he finds a text from Stan: _you ok?_

Eddie quickly sends a reply: _yea. feel sick needed to get out. going home. let me know how the movie ended._

Hoping that would be enough Eddie shoves his phone back in his pocket as it vibrates again with more texts arriving. He leaves it, not bothering to hear what Stan or any of the other Losers have to say right now.

Now that he’s alone Eddie doesn’t know where to go. He can’t go home, his mom would worry and fuss over him about why he’s come home early. Was he sick? Did he hurt himself? Eddie didn’t want to deal with that. The Clubhouse, maybe? But that was the first place the others would go if they went looking for him. Eddie decides to go down to the train yards. It’s quiet there, the trains stopped travelling along those lines long ago. He likes to walk along the broken and worn weed-covered tracks thinking about everything and nothing.

As he’s about to exit the alley he hears the side exit door open with a loud bang as it hits the hard concrete of the building behind him.

“Eddie!”

Eddie freezes but doesn’t turn around at Richie’s voice. He hears the loud slapping of Richie’s battered Converse shoes on the pavement as he jogs up behind him.

“Eds,” Richie says a little out of breath. He obviously did run down the stairs and out the door. Part of Eddie wants to smile at that because of course, Richie would.

“What?” Eddie can’t help but sound unsteady, his voice catching a little.

“You dropped your Twizzlers,” Richie says as he moves in front of Eddie, blocking his way out of the alley.

Eddie can’t seem to meet his eyes. “Thanks.” He doesn’t make a move to take the bag from Richie.

“Are you okay? Like, really?” Richie sounds pretty damn worried and it takes Eddie aback a bit. He manages to meet Richie’s eyes and nearly bursts into tears, but by some miracle, he doesn’t.

“Don’t feel well is all,” Eddie manages to get out. His chest feels heavy, crushing weight beginning to pile on and making it hard to breathe. Still, he doesn’t make a move to retrieve his inhaler.

“Okay, that’s okay. D’you want to go home? I can walk with you or you can come to my place. I’m sure mom wouldn’t mind if you stayed for a while.”

The kindness in Richie’s voice makes the turmoil inside Eddie even worse. “No, I just wanna be alone right now.”

“You sure?” Richie makes a move to put his hand on Eddie’s shoulder, but Eddie flinches back. He couldn’t handle it if Richie touched him right now.

“YES! Just leave me the fuck alone, Rich!” Eddie snaps with frustration, his hand gesturing sharply to emphasise the point.

Richie seems to deflate a bit at Eddie’s anger but somehow knows not to push further. “Okay, Eds. Let me know when you’re feeling better. I—we’ll be here for you.” He moves aside to let Eddie pass.

Nodding, Eddie avoids Richie’s worried gaze and starts down the sidewalk towards Kansas street. He’s only about twenty feet away before Richie calls something after him. Clenching his fists he turns around but doesn’t make a move to go back. “What?”

“I said you’re not stupid,” Richie says.

Now Eddie is confused. “I don’t understand.”

Richie looks down, hand nervously picking at the hem of his well-worn t-shirt. “Before the movie, you said ‘stupid Eddie Kaspbrak’s asthma ruins everything’.” Richie pauses, looking almost pleadingly at Eddie. “You’re not. Stupid, I mean. You don’t ruin anything either. You’re one of the best, Eds.”

Now Eddie can’t help the tears welling in his eyes and spilling over. Deep love and gratitude for his friend fills his heart. “Thanks, Rich.”

Nodding, Richie turns back towards the theatre, giving Eddie a small wave and a smile before he does. He still has the bag of Twizzlers and Eddie doesn’t care if Richie has the rest or not, but a small part of him hopes he does.

The lump in Eddie’s throat prevents him from saying anything and really there is nothing more to say at the moment. Eddie’s heart and mind are a mess of confused and weary emotions. They’re something that he’s never had to deal with before and cannot quite understand. But one thing he does understand is the clarity of the thoughts and underlying emotions that seemed to click into perfect place when Richie had been touching him without conscious thought in the theatre.

_I want him to be my alpha_ , Eddie thought so fiercely and desperately it nearly suffocated him. _I want Richie._

But with a lot of his friends presenting already as either alpha or omega the sudden and deep fear that he would just end up being a beta or an alpha envelopes Eddie’s heart. There’s still time, but the fear and doubt grow deeper inside, clenching around Eddie’s heart like a vice. Would the universe be this cruel to him to deny him his best friend in this new way?

So Eddie runs. Runs to try and escape these new and terrifying feelings he has for Richie.

Richie, who is his best friend, but is now so much more


	6. Richie, 15 years old

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An odd feeling comes over Richie as he speaks like he’s going to make Eddie listen, really listen and Eddie will be the better for it. “Stop. Stop it right now, Eds.” Eddie automatically looks at Richie; his eyes still confused and tortured looking. “Bill and Mikey are right, you can’t fucking let him in like this. You’re worth so much fucking more than that shit for brains douchebag. You’re amazing, you’re brave, you’re funny, you’re annoying as fuck, you’re too fucking bighearted and caring for your own good, you’re our friend and so much more. You’re a Loser and Losers stick together.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alpha Richie mode activated!
> 
> Chapter warnings: Henry Bowers, homophobic language, homophobia, verbal and physical bullying, minor blood, non-life-threatening injuries

Surprise life-altering moments can be a total bitch for several reasons. For one they are just that: a surprise. Good or bad they’ll catch someone unawares and completely fuck over a person’s life in big or small ways. They wouldn’t be called life-altering if they didn’t. It varies from person to person of course, but one thing you can be sure of is that they are not usually anticipated on a daily basis. At least not for Richie Tozier.

Waking up this Saturday morning Richie doesn’t think ‘hmm, what will life throw at me today and completely leave me flat on my ass?’ Richie wakes up in a decent mood for a young teenage alpha and does his usual weekend routine of eating breakfast, checking his phone, flopping himself down in front of the TV and flipping the channel to Nickelodeon. The cartoons fill the silent void of the Tozier family room with their fun music and noise while Richie checks his phone again. Nothing life-altering about that.

The same happens when he meets up with Bill and Mike at the record store that recently opened up and became a surprising hit with the Derry denizens and tourists with selling rare, new and used albums. Vinyl is back, baby! Richie already has a nice little collection with some of the best classic and punk rock has to offer.

Leaving the store, Richie is still oblivious about how things will change forever in such a short amount of time. He’s walking along with Bill and Mike on the edge of town where there are fewer people and less activity. They’re in no hurry to get back to Bill’s place where they plan to platonically Netflix and chill and maybe play some _Borderlands_.

Rounding a corner onto Witcham Street, they pass the empty Derry Laundromat that shut down a few years ago. Richie glances through the dirty glass and gaps where the taped up aged sheets of newspaper on the windows have fallen away, trying to see if he can see anything inside. He heard that a dead body was found inside shortly after the place closed down and now it’s haunted with the tortured soul of the damned. This is according to pretty much everyone at school so it’s totally true.

Unable to see anything except the dusty and empty space inside, Richie’s slightly disappointed at the lack of supernatural horror to be witnessed. Ah well, there was always that really creepy house on Neibolt Street he could check out if people weren’t so chicken to go with him. He suspects Eddie would though given enough button pushing and his need to prove to Richie he isn’t scared of stupid shit like that. Richie smiles at the thought and, of course, Eddie.

His Eddie. Which is what Richie has been referring to him more and more lately. It’s scary but also feels right. But Eddie has been different since the beginning of the summer and it has Richie worried. Eddie’s been more skittish with him and distant, not wanting to spend too much time alone with him. There is always someone else there with them when they hang out, one on one hangouts becoming a rarity. Richie, naturally, asks if Eddie is okay a few times over the weeks and is met with the usual clipped “I’m fine” but somehow he isn’t convinced. He consults Bev who has some kind of freaky mind powers to see into people’s minds but according to her, it’s only because she actually has a brain. Not her fault that Richie and the rest of them only share one combined brain cell.

But Bev couldn’t say to Richie what is wrong with Eddie either. She’s pretty much in the same boat as he is. He thought that maybe Eddie presented at some point during the summer and has somehow hidden it, but Bev doesn’t get that feeling. Even if Eddie were on blockers for becoming an alpha or omega they should be able to tell he had presented as something. They knew it instantly when Bill became an alpha and Ben and Mike an omega.

The thought of Eddie presenting always sends a little thrill of excitement and dread through Richie; the thrill that he could still become an omega, then the dread of him becoming an alpha. So far Eddie remains a beta and that’s cool for now, but the itch under Richie’s skin whenever he thinks about it and the ‘what if’s’ grow more and more with each passing day. If by some miracle, Eddie likes Richie the way Richie likes him then Richie promises himself he’ll do everything in his power to make it happen. He’s already looked up different things on the Internet about how to suppress his alpha nature both physically and psychologically, decidedly ignoring all the parts in the legitimate and professionally sourced articles on the mental and physical dangers of suppressing alpha and omega traits on a lifelong basis. Screw that, this is Eddie! If Eddie wants Richie then that’s what he’ll get. Without Eddie knowing it he already has Richie wrapped around his little finger.

Lost in those thoughts Richie realizes that he hasn’t been paying attention to what Bill and Mike have been saying.

“D-did you n-n-know that Will is ju-ju-just the fuckin’ author’s s-self insert character?” Bill asks Mike a bit accusingly.

_Ahh, Billiam,_ Richie thinks fondly. He loves Big Bill dearly, but he has to laugh at how preciously oblivious his friend can be sometimes.

“Yeah, man, it’s pretty clear that he’s a Marty Stu,” Mike says, laughing. “You totally didn’t get that?”

“No!” Bill sounds offended now, but at himself or the author, Richie couldn’t say. Probably both.

Laughing harder, Mike bumps his shoulder against Bill’s in a cheering up gesture. “It’s okay, Big Bill, I’m sure Richie didn’t know either.” Mike glances to Richie with a look that clearly tells him ‘play along, dude’.

But Richie feeling like a mischievous little shit decidedly doesn’t. “Fuck, no! I saw that shit ten pages in. Blind people can see it!”

“Beep beep, Richie,” Bill grumbles. He’s frowning now and Richie always thinks that Bill looks like he’s pouting when he does. It’s cute, but not as cute as Eddie when he’s frowning.

“Thanks, dude,” Mike sarcastically says.

“Not a problem, Mikey!” Richie winks and shoots him a two-finger salute. Mike rolls his eyes in response.

Richie opens his mouth about to poke more fun at Bill for being adorably oblivious when a strangled scream cuts through the air putting a screeching halt to any further conversation.

Alarmed, the three of them all look at each other, silently confirming that they all heard the same thing. Another scream is heard, this time it’s sharper and more desperate. Shouting can be heard afterwards, but the words aren’t clear, as the commotion seems to be coming from behind the strip of buildings at the end of the block.

“Sh-should we…” Bill hesitates and brings out his phone just in case he needs to call someone.

Richie doesn’t hear Bill; instead, he sprints down the sidewalk, his Converse connecting with the pavement in hard, jarring steps as he runs. He almost knocks a guy over coming out of the dry cleaners; not noticing anything around him except what is in front of him. He can sort of make out the expletives thrown his way but they don’t matter. What matters is getting to the source of that person screaming. Every neuron in his brain screams at him to get there and get there _now_.

“ _RICHIE!_ ” Mike and Bill yell in unison running after him.

Without knowing why Richie’s heart suddenly becomes the speed bag of a boxer training for the prizefight upon hearing that first scream. Blood rushes into his ears and everything narrows down into such an intense and forceful need to get there and help. He moves on instinct rather than any rational thought as he runs.

Another cry is heard closer this time. Richie’s blood nearly boils at the sound because he’s heard it before, but not quite like that. Not laced with fear and pain.

Practically skidding off his feet, Richie rounds the corner of the last building and into the nearly empty parking lot behind. He stops dead; chest heaving for air, and the scene before him make him see absolute red.

Eddie is kneeling on the rough pavement, head bent down and his left arm bent straight back at an awkward angle with Henry Bowers gripping his wrist and elbow so tightly that all the skin around where Bowers fingers dig in are white. Belch has Eddie’s Right arm pinned behind his back so he can’t move away. Victor is a few feet away filming the entire thing with a smug grin on his face.

Bowers twists Eddie’s arm again and Eddie cries out in pain. As he does he lifts his head and Richie sees the blood slowly dripping from Eddie’s nose and forehead.

His head empties at the sight, all rational thought has fled and there’s only one thing to do: get Bowers the fuck away from Eddie.

“Hey, faggot! Your faggot friend is here to save the day!” Bowers sneers, his dirty yellow teeth showing through his twisted smile as he spots Richie. His eyes are alight with the disgusting pleasure of someone who gets off on the suffering of others worse than he is.

Eddie turns, facing Richie. He almost screams with a rage that he’s never felt before in his young life with the look on Eddie’s face. Eddie’s eyes are wide and panicked, his face pale and bloodstained, his cute freckles standing out more like pinpricks of blood across his face. But what gives Richie pause is the almost pleading look on Eddie’s face. It’s not a pleading look of please help me, but one pleading for Richie to run and save himself.

_I’m sorry, Spagheddie,_ Richie thinks before he turns his wrath back onto Bowers and the others. “LET HIM GO!” Richie screams with such vehemence at Bowers.

Bowers levels Richie with a mocking look of surprise and begins laughing. “Awww, am I hurting your boyfriend, faggot?” He twists and squeezes Eddie’s arm, which elicits a small cry from Eddie.

While Richie isn’t a doctor by any means he has seen plenty of movies and shows where the angle that Bowers has Eddie’s arm twisted at means that a broken bone is imminent. “LEAVE. HIM. ALONE!” Richie screams once more, taking a couple of steps towards Bowers. He barely registers Mike and Bill run up behind him, witnessing the scene unfolding before them.

“Oh fuck!” Mike breathes.

“Eddie!” Bill cries out.

“Hey, some of your faggot crew is here! Whatcha doing, boys? Come here to suck some dick for money? Or are you just here to gang fuck the shit out of this one?” Bowers jerks Eddie back a bit for emphasis. Belch and Victor laugh at Bowers cruel words.

Eddie’s pale and drawn face flushes in shame at the disgusting comment.

“Fuck. You.” Richie growls. Every shred of rational thought and resolve snaps inside him. He sprints headfirst right at Bowers without any concern about his safety or the potential consequences.

Surprised, Bowers drops Eddie’s arm and steps back as Richie rushes toward him. Belch lets go of Eddie’s other arm to avoid being knocked over by Richie. He really is that dumb if he could think Richie could knock him over. Richie doesn’t have time to make sure Eddie has gotten away or if Mike and Bill come to help him before he’s on Bowers, his fist connecting with Bowers face.

Bowers screams and lashes out, his fist connecting with Richie’s chin. This was going to get pretty ugly and not in a cool _Street Fighter_ kinda way. Later Richie would reflect back on this and be disappointed that all those years playing _Street Fighter_ and _Mortal Kombat_ didn’t leave him with better fighting skills. All martial arts can be learned from video games, obviously. Being able to Hadouken the shit out of Bowers would be a dream come true.

The rage inside Richie is hot and burning, consuming and fuelling him all at once. He has one thought and one thought only: make Bowers pay for what he’s done. That rage-fuelled hate seems to guide Richie’s fist directly at Bowers nose. He’s barely aware of the sickening crunching sound or the jarring pain that radiates from his knuckles and up his arm as he comes in contact with the cartilage and bone of Bowers nose. Richie pulls back and watches as blood begins to pour from Bowers’ now obviously broken nose. Richie blinks at the sight, unable to fully comprehend and congratulate himself that he did that.

“YOU MOTHERFUCKER!” Bowers screams wetly, his mouth covered in blood. His eyes narrow down into slits with white-hot rage.

“Your face looks less like the asshole of a baboon now! You can thank me later!” Richie smirks at his handiwork. He runs his tongue quickly across his lip, tasting the coppery tang of blood.

Bowers screams his usual insults back at Richie but he doesn’t give a single fuck; instead, he lunges at Bowers, body bent in a lower tackle position to take him off his feet. To Richie, it feels like he’s momentarily hitting a brick wall, but then that wall gives way with a grunt and topples backwards. It works, Bowers is now flat on his back, spitting blood and screaming at Richie to fuck off and die. Richie manages to pin Bowers down with his knees as he straddles his midsection to get in a few more punches to his face, but it’s short-lived as he’s suddenly being forcefully yanked back by his shirt collar onto his feet.

Spinning around, Richie balls up his fist ready to throw a punch at whoever took away his opportunity to go another round on his favourite punching bag.

“Hey! Woah!” Mike says. He steps back quickly to avoid Richie’s impending attack, hands held up in a peaceful gesture. He has a panicked expression on his face. “Just me, Rich, we gotta go!”

“What?” Richie breathes harshly, unable to understand what Mike’s referring to.

“We gotta go!” Mike repeats. He looks over to the other end of the parking lot and Richie’s gaze follows. A middle-aged woman with spiky blond hair whose name is most likely Karen or Becky or something akin to that is yelling at them to stop and that she’s calling the cops right now as she waves her phone around in her hand for emphasis.

A new rage bubbles up inside Richie as he looks at her and back to Bowers. Belch is helping a murderous looking Bowers unsteadily onto his feet. Victor is already a few feet away clearly antsy to get the fuck outta dodge. Richie takes note of the shattered screen of the phone Victor is holding that was being used to record all this. Richie meets Bowers eyes and instead of feeling the usual apprehension of that murderous gaze that promises nothing but pain that Bowers is so good at, Richie feels defiant. The fire in his blood right now is making him bolder than ever. He silently dares Bowers to try something more, give him another excuse to go at him. The blood dripping down half of Bowers face also makes Richie feel pretty damn proud. He fucking deserves that and more for what he’s done to Eddie. Richie smiles a bit and winces as he feels his split lip for the first time as Mike tugs at his arm, leading him away. But not before giving Bowers two middle fingers and blowing him a kiss.

Little pricks of pain begin to tell Richie that he didn’t get off scot-free from this fight. Adrenaline still courses through him as he mentally and physically tries to pull back from whatever red zone he crashed headfirst into. He’s never felt like this before in his life. Nothing this intense has ever grabbed hold of Richie, flinging him headfirst into unknown territory. This strong need and pull to get to Eddie and make sure Bowers fucking hurt for doing what he did just engulfed every single thing inside of him.

His heart still thuds hard in his chest and his breathing is ragged, the dull aches and sharp pains begin to reveal themselves, but none of it matters, what matters is Eddie.

“Eddie!” Richie shouts, unconsciously grabbing onto Mike’s shoulder as he does. He looks around the parking lot frantically for him.

“It’s okay! He’s with Bill just around the corner.” Mike studies Richie with worry.

A sudden flood of relief courses through Richie. Eddie’s safe and with Bill, someone who Richie trusts with his life.

Half jogging around the corner of the building, Richie’s entire body nearly collapses in relief seeing Eddie standing and, at first glance, okay. Eddie’s bike is propped up against a lamppost next to Bill, who has Eddie’s backpack slung over his shoulder and concerned look about him. He’s holding clean tissues for Eddie to wipe the blood off his nose with. Richie notes that there’s a large red spot on Bill’s right cheekbone where he must have taken a hit. He’ll probably have a nice bruise there in a day or two. The thought of Bill going into the fray to help makes Richie so grateful that he’s his friend. Eddie’s just as important to Bill as he is to Richie, just on a different wavelength.

“Eddie!” Richie calls over, running up to them.

Eddie looks up at Richie, finishing wiping the blood as best he can from his nose. His clothes are rumpled and askew, his normally neatly combed hair a disorderly mess that would definitely send Sonia into a fit. “Rich!” Eddie gives him a huge smile. There’s a look of excitement on Eddie’s face, which seems… odd.

Richie is a bit taken aback by that look of excitement Eddie is projecting. Sure he still looks deathly pale from the shock and the blood on his forehead stands out brightly in contrast, but the way Eddie almost beams at Richie is unnerving.

“Fuck, Eds! Are you okay?” Richie places his hands on Eddie’s shoulders, not caring if Eddie shrugs him off. He needs to feel Eddie, make sure he’s whole and still here.

“Yeah! Fuck, Rich, are _you_ okay?” Eddie reaches up to touch Richie’s face then quickly pulls back. Worry fills Eddie’s large brown eyes and Richie is confused.

“Huh?” Richie frowns. “Dude, I’m fine, it’s you I’m worried about.”

“But your glasses…” Eddie says sadly.

His glasses… Richie reluctantly lets go of Eddie and pulls his large coke bottle glasses off his face. Squinting hard he can vaguely see the large crack with the radiating spider web of smaller cracks on the left lens. Well, fuck, how is he going to explain this to mom and dad? The last time he broke his glasses his dad told him he’d have to pay for them himself if he ever busted them again. Richie quickly tries to remember what his bank account looks like and his heart sinks. Maybe his mom and dad won’t notice. Either way, it doesn’t matter. It was worth it.

“Let’s get out of here,” Mike suggests, grabbing the handlebars of Eddie’s bike to push it alongside him. He’s looking over Bill’s shoulder where there are a couple of adults staring at them a few yards away. The others glance over and agree. They don’t want to have to explain any of this to anyone.

Bill asks if Eddie wants to go home or back to his place.

“I think just home,” Eddie replies. “Mom’s out shopping with my aunt in Haven so I can clean up before she gets home tonight.”

Anxiety seems to clench in Richie’s gut at the thought of Sonia seeing Eddie like this right now. He’d never be let out of the house ever again if she saw the state he’s currently in.

“Alright, we’ll be your personal bodyguards. I’ll be Kevin Costner and you can be Whitney. I’ll carry you bridal style into your house,” Richie announces. Eddie laughs a bit and nods, seemingly not having the energy to quip back.

Richie’s a little sad at the lack of Eddie’s comeback even if it is a joke. But can he blame him? Not one fucking bit. He’s pretty sure Eddie is still in shock and he can sense the uneasiness that is surrounding Eddie so thickly it’s almost jarring. 

They slowly start making their way down the street going at Eddie’s pace. He obviously is still a bit shaky on his feet but Richie and the others don’t want to say anything or offer help, because they know it would only upset Eddie more.

“What the fuck happened?” Richie asks and is surprised to get a warning shake of the head from Bill to drop it.

“Bad fucking luck, I guess.” Eddie shrugs, looking down at his feet as he walks. “Mom had a book on order at the bookstore arrive and asked me to pick it up. When I went back to get my bike they were waiting. You can pretty much guess the rest.”

Yeah, Richie could guess and sadly it was all too vivid in his mind the way the images popped up of how that encounter with Bowers probably went. A bright flare of anger creeps into Richie’s chest at those ugly thoughts.

“But, guys, I totally got one in on Belch by kneeing him in the fucking balls!” Eddie says triumphantly, grinning wide.

Richie wishes he were there to see that. It would’ve been a moment for the history books. “Dude! That’s awesome,” Richie exclaims and raises his hand for a high five. He is slightly taken aback as he sees how bloody and scraped up some of his knuckles are from punching Bowers stupid face.

Eddie begins to raise his hand in return but winces with pain at the sudden movement of his arm that has nearly been broken. Faint blue spots are already beginning to show up underneath Eddie’s pale skin. He is going to have some wicked bruises there over the next couple of weeks. Richie wonders how he’ll hide them from Sonia or what story he’ll make up.

“Uh, that’s okay! Low five!” Riche holds his hand out lower for Eddie to slap. When Eddie does it leaves Richie’s palm tingling with a pleasant warm sensation.

“Man, I would have liked to see that,” Mike laughs as he pushes Eddie’s bike along.

“Me too,” Bill agrees. “I b-b-bet Be-elch didn’t know what the f-fuck to do.”

“He usually doesn’t anyway. His brain is always empty as fuck,” Eddie laughs, which sends the others into a fit of giggles about Belch and his lack of brain activity.

“Managed to fucking get Victor in the shins a couple of times, too,” Eddie says proudly. He’s grinning at all of them; his face alight as he tells them what went down. Eddie isn’t looking as pale now, the colour returning slightly to his cheeks as he speaks animatedly.

Pride swells in Richie’s chest and he doesn’t really know why. He knows Eddie is anything but weak, hell, Eddie’s probably the strongest and bravest person he knows. But still, thinking of how Eddie managed to get in a few licks against Bowers and Co really makes Richie feel such pride for him.

“Oh, f-f-fuck.” Bill stops dead in his tracks. The others stop a few steps ahead and look back.

“What?” Mike asks.

“V-v-victor. He was f-filming ev-everything.”

“Fuck,” Eddie breathes out. He’s gone still and what colour had come back into his face drains away in seconds. He begins to wheeze and quickly fumbles for his inhaler in his pocket and pulls it out, but doesn’t go to use it quite yet. “If Victor posts that…” Eddie can’t finish the sentence before his throat closes up around the remaining words forcing him to use his inhaler.

Richie instinctually wants to wrap his arms around him in a hug but holds back as he doesn’t want to freak Eddie out any more or cause him pain.

“Nah, it’s taken care of,” Mike says.

They stare at him for a moment not comprehending.

Eddie lowers his inhaler from his mouth with a shaky breath, blinking slowly at Mike. “How?”

“Smashed his phone with my foot,” Mike tells them proudly. “Well, not before I had him delete it. Y’know cloud stuff and all.”

“How the fuck did you get him to do that?” Richie gapes at Mike with amazement. He was too busy unleashing hell on Bowers to notice much else happening.

“Had him in a headlock,” Mike says proudly. “You did see me put Victor in a headlock?”

“Uhmm no,” Bill says apologetically. “I was h-he-helping Eddie.”

Mike looks disappointed that Bill hadn’t noticed. He turns to Richie asking silently if he saw.

“Nope, I was too busy unleashing motherfucking Mortal Kombat on that shit stain.” Richie shrugs. “But dude, I bet it was epic.”

Mike’s shoulders slump forward, seeming defeated. “Man, my shining moment of glory and everyone fucking misses it.”

“But Mikey Mike, my man, I can picture it now,” Richie says as if he’s the director setting the scene for some movie. He moves his hand slowly across the sky as if willing his vision to come to life. “Mike with his amazing lumberjack strong arms—“

“Richie…” Mike interjects. Eddie and Bill laugh.

“—wrapped around that weasel, Draco McFuckfly’s neck, telling him to fucking delete the video otherwise he’ll feed his fucking bleached blond ass to the wood chipper on his farm.”

“We don’t have a wood chipper,” Mike deadpans.

“Who cares, it’s more dramatic this way.” Richie bounces back on his heels with a smug smile.

“You just love _Fargo_ too much, dude,” Mike points out.

“How many movies give you a guy being stuffed into a fucking wood chipper?” Richie laughs, grinning at Eddie, relieved to see him smiling again.

The four friends continue to Eddie’s place, talking and joking about whatever comes to mind. Richie, Mike, and Bill are trying to distract Eddie and keep his mind elsewhere. It seems to be working, Richie happily observes. Eddie’s once again more bubbly and chatty, snapping back at whatever dumb shit Richie says. He can tell Eddie is getting over his shock, but Richie is still a bit worried. Eddie couldn’t have come out the other side of that encounter without some kind of trauma. Maybe Eddie has to process it fully first? That’s probably it.

They arrive at Eddie’s house and Mike offers to put Eddie’s bike away. As they wait Richie starts to feel the aches and pains radiate more throughout his body. His face is stinging where he took several hits from Bowers and he has no doubt he’ll be sporting some kind of black eye or something equally as cool. He is already trying to spin what kind of story to tell his mom and dad without involving Eddie. If his parents contacted Sonia to ask questions then he’d be visiting Eddie at home through a Plexiglass window a la Hannibal Lecter for the rest of their lives.

Eddie’s house is quiet and almost kind of eerie. Richie always feels that way every time he visits when Sonia isn’t home. Her oppressive and controlling energy lingers in every room as if she has left a shade of herself in charge to make sure Eddie and his friends behave. Eddie doesn’t seem to notice or maybe he’s just so used to it he doesn’t care, but regardless Richie does and he shivers despite it being warm out.

He follows Eddie past the living room where the empty recliner that Sonia favours sits empty and up the stairs to the second floor. Photos of Eddie as a baby and throughout childhood hang on various spots on the staircase wall. One of them is of Eddie and his father, Frank. Eddie once told Richie that he doesn’t remember when that was taken, as he was too young. It always makes Richie a bit sad and curious as to how different Eddie’s life would’ve been if his dad were still around.

At the top of the stairs, Eddie says he’ll be back, but Bill stops him. “Where’s the f-first aid k-kit?”

“In the bathroom under the sink. Why?”

“I’ll g-get it. You go sit,” Bill orders, heading to the bathroom.

“I can do that, Bill!” Eddie frowns a bit, his freckles scrunching the way Richie loves so much.

“Nope, you heard our fearless leader, you go sit Spagheddie.” Richie places his hand on Eddie’s shoulder and doesn’t miss the way he flinches slightly underneath his touch. Fuck, maybe Eddie wasn’t doing as well as Richie thought.

Eddie’s room is freakishly clean for a boy of fifteen or at least compared to Richie’s. Things are stacked nicely on shelves and bookcases. Even the desk with Eddie’s laptop on it is stupidly organized. As Richie idly wanders around Eddie’s room he subtly moves one of Eddie’s notebooks stacked on the desk askew for the sheer anarchy of it.

Richie’s been in Eddie’s room hundreds of times, but for some reason today it strikes him how much un-Eddie it feels. Sure it’s got his things and interests littered about, but it seems to lack some kind of spark of Eddie’s. It definitely has Sonia’s touch all over it. He spots the small model of the classic DB5 Aston Martin on Eddie’s desk that he gave Eddie for his birthday not long ago. Somehow this feels more Eddie than anything in this room. Or maybe it’s Richie’s inflated ego telling himself that. Either way, the small car fits nicely within the world that is Eddie.

Richie knows that Sonia isn’t too thrilled about Eddie liking cars but lets him indulge in this hobby thinking it’s just that, a hobby. No one but the Losers knows that Eddie would love to rebuild a classic car one day. If Sonia knew that she’d probably pitch a fit about it being too dangerous and dirty. And being a mechanic isn’t a good enough profession for her precious Eddie-bear.

_Sucks to be you, Mrs K. Eddie will do whatever the fuck he wants_ , Richie thinks with a smug smile.

Bill enters the bedroom carrying the large first aid kit, putting it down on the bed next to where Eddie is sitting. He takes a small handheld mirror tucked in the waistband of his jeans and places it on the bed. Eddie makes a move to open the kit when Bill swats his hand away.

“Bill…” Eddie huffs, annoyed.

“No, we’re t-t-taking c-care of you,” Bill says, levelling Eddie with a ‘don’t fucking argue’ look. Richie’s actually impressed with Bill’s take-charge attitude with this situation. He knows Eddie is coddled and smothered by his mother and her care, but this is different. They know who Eddie really is and they know he can take care of himself, but Eddie is still in a lot of shock and needs the support and love of friends right now.

Mike sits on Eddie’s right and Bill his left, the first aid kit between them. Bill opens the kit and rummages around for the antiseptic wipes and cotton pads.

With an aching heart for Eddie and how he must be hurting mentally and physically, Richie kneels down on the soft rug in front of him. “Here,” Richie says, reaching out his arm for Bill to give him some first aid goods.

“Oh my god, guys, seriously, I can do this myself.” Eddie grumps, crossing his arms across his chest but hisses in pain as his injured arm is moved too quickly.

“We know you can, Eds, but you need a little TLC right now.” Richie smiles then lowers his voice to a loud whisper, “if you want I can kick Big Bill and Mikey out, just be you and me, Doctor Dick Tozier.” He winks and his heart almost seizes in his chest at the adorable way Eddie flushes absolutely scarlet, eyes wide with embarrassment but also something else.

“Beep beep, Richie,” Mike interjects, saving Eddie from more torture.

Shrugging nonchalantly but secretly thrilled, Richie takes the wipes and cotton balls Bill passes him and looks at Eddie’s scraped up knees. No doubt Bowers and the others had fun shoving him down on the pavement good and hard a few times. There are a couple of cuts that look deep. Not deep enough for stitches he thinks, but definitely something that will be annoying for a couple of days at least. Anger violently surges up again inside at the state of Eddie. It takes almost every bit of willpower not to go charging out the front door and hunt down Bowers to give him another beating. Richie clenches his jaw trying to calm himself down.

“Ahh!” Richie’s anger immediately turns to concern with Eddie’s sudden outcry of discomfort. His instinct to put his hands on Eddie’s knees to comfort him almost makes him drop the first aid supplies he’s holding. Bill has one of the antiseptic wipes pressed against the cut over Eddie’s eyebrow. Eddie’s eye is squeezed shut to avoid getting anything in there or accidentally poked out because of Bill’s first aid skills.

“S-s-sorry, Eddie.” Bill slowly wipes away the dried blood around the wound.

“S’okay,” Eddie mumbles. He’s wiping away the last of the dried blood he missed the first time around his nose as best he can with one eye open while Mike holds the mirror out for him.

“Eddie, do you th-th-think we s-sh-should take you to the ER?” Bill points to Eddie’s arm that is continuing to turn into an angry rainbow of sickly colours.

Jerking back quickly from Bill, Eddie scowls at him. “No fucking way.”

“Bu-but what if y-your arm is b-br-broken?”

“No, I am not going to that fucking place,” Eddie angrily bites out. They know why he reacts so strongly because of his regular ‘visitor status’ to the ER on behalf of Sonia. He’s probably racked up more visits there then the entire population of Derry. You’d think he’d have a frequent patient card by now, after every tenth visit you get a free coffee or some shit.

“Can you move it without the pain increasing? Any numbness?” Mike asks. His father suffered a broken arm last year when Mike was helping him fix some farm equipment. Going with his dad to the ER has paid off in knowing what to ask about.

Wincing, Eddie slowly stretches out his arm and wiggles his fingers. “Yeah nothing worse, just sore.”

Richie wants to lace his fingers between Eddie’s and hold his hand until he feels better. Swallowing and quickly looking away, he begins wiping away more of the blood and grit from the scrapes on Eddie’s knees.

“I’ll go get some ice for it,” Mike offers, getting up.

“Mom keeps some ice packs in the freezer,” Eddie calls after Mike as he hurries down the stairs.

They continue to help Eddie clean up and Mike comes back with some ice packs. Eddie swears viciously as the packs are applied to his arm and clumsily wrapped in place with a towel.

“Nurse Billiam, a band-aid please,” Richie says with a professional air, holding out his hand.

Rolling his eyes, Bill passes Richie a band-aid and unwraps it. He places it on the worst of Eddie’s cuts on his knee and smiles at his handiwork. Screw medical school he could become a doctor right now and heal the world.

“There! My Eds is good as new!” Richie says brightly smiling up at Eddie. His smile quickly disappears as Eddie stares at him with such a heart-shattering look of pain in his eyes. Richie opens his mouth to ask what is wrong but can’t get anything out before tears start to spill down Eddie’s cheeks and a loud hitching sob catches in his chest.

Quickly covering his face with his hands Eddie sobs, his whole body shaking with each gulping breath of air.

“Oh god, Eddie I…” Richie looks at Bill and Mike in a panic. Both of them seem just as panicked as Richie feels. Shit, shit, shit. What the fuck do you do in this situation? Richie wants to desperately wrap his arms around Eddie and hold him, tell him he’s safe and he’s here for him. He doesn’t want to upset Eddie any more than he is.

_You need to hug him. It will calm him down,_ something inside Richie quietly tells him.

Fuck it. The desire to comfort his friend wins and Richie leans in between Eddie’s legs and wraps his arms around his midsection, resting his head against Eddie’s chest. He can feel and hear Eddie’s jackhammer heartbeat as he presses himself close. The sensation nearly causes his own heart to nearly break.

“Hey, hey, hey,” Mike’s calm voice is heard through the hitching sobs. “It’s okay, Eddie. You’re safe.”

Bill echo’s Mike’s sentiment and passes Eddie some tissues. They hold and comfort Eddie as he cries, letting him get out all those toxic feelings as the shock from earlier wears off.

Richie instinctively squeezes a little harder, feeling Eddie’s body slowly relax a bit and his heartbeat begins to slow ever so slightly. He lifts his head up, chin resting on Eddie’s chest, looking up at him. Eddie’s a mess, his face scraped and swollen, rich brown eyes red and bloodshot from tears, and snot dripping very unattractively out of his nose. Richie has never loved him more.

Eddie sniffles; looks down at him with a weak smile and Richie can swear he sees something he’s never seen before in those cried out eyes of his. A warmth and vulnerability that almost says ‘I trust you with anything and everything’. Richie nearly bursts into tears himself at this sensation.

The four friends sit in silence, giving Eddie time to calm down and talk if he needs. When he does it’s something that none of them would have guessed in a million years. “W-what if Bowers is right?” Eddie says softly, his voice shaken and hesitant.

“What are you talking about?” Richie asks. He unwinds his arms from around Eddie and pulls back to get a clearer look at him. He doesn’t move his hands off Eddie’s waist; the drive to still have physical contact with him is too strong for him to let go completely.

Fresh tears well up as he looks away not able to face any of his friends. “What if he’s right and I’m a dirty little f-faggot that deserves to die?” The tears spill over with a little hiccupping sob.

The room is deadly quiet as the bombshell Eddie has dropped computes with Richie’s brain. Something beyond rage wants to burst out of him and hurt those who have hurt Eddie on a level that if Richie were in his right mind to rationally think about would scare him.

“Eh-Eddie, no,” Bill says softly. “You are s-so fucking wrong. You’re wo-worth so much m-m-more than Bowers. He’s a worthless p-piece of s-sh-shit. There’s nothing good that c-c-comes from him.”

“Yeah, man, don’t let him get into your head like that,” Mike comforts. “If you let him into your head he wins.” He wraps his arm around Eddie’s shoulders, squeezing a little.

Eddie sniffles some more, still not able to meet any of their eyes. “I just… fuck, I… but he…”

An odd feeling comes over Richie as he speaks like he’s going to make Eddie listen, _really_ listen and Eddie will be the better for it. “Stop. Stop it right now, Eds.” Eddie automatically looks at Richie; his eyes still confused and tortured looking. “Bill and Mikey are right, you can’t fucking let him in like this. You’re worth so much fucking more than that shit for brains douchebag. You’re amazing, you’re brave, you’re funny, you’re annoying as fuck, you’re too fucking bighearted and caring for your own good, you’re our friend and so much more. You’re a Loser and Losers stick together.” 

The tortured look within Eddie’s eyes clears as Richie speaks and a little bit of that spark that makes Eddie _Eddie_ comes back. He’s still incredibly fragile-looking, but the worst of the storm has cleared. All Richie wants is his sunshiny Eddie back.

“Richie…” Eddie whispers.

“Richie’s ri-right,” Bill affirms. “You’re all th-that and m-m-ore.”

“You are one of the good guys,” Mike adds.

“The fucking best,” Richie says with absolute sincerity.

Blushing slightly at the praise, Eddie nods a little, letting the words sink in.

“Eddie,” Bill begins, looking a little nervous about what he’s about to ask. “You don’t ha-have to tell us, b-b-but are y-you gay? Is th-that wh-y you said that?”

Richie’s mind begins spinning with Bill’s question as he waits for Eddie to answer and nearly misses it as he goes into a nuclear meltdown.

“Yeah, I think I am,” Eddie admits, cheeks flushing. “I think I’ve known for a while but never really said it out loud.” 

Congratulations, Eddie Kaspbrak has reached the next level. Achievement unlocked: gay.

“That’s awesome, Eds!” Mike gives Eddie’s shoulder a supportive squeeze. Bill leans in and gives Eddie a gentle hug.

Richie is still frozen to the spot with his hands glued onto Eddie’s waist. Eddie is gay. Eddie is… oh, holy fuck there could be a chance. There could be a real fucking chance. Elation and a whole fuckton of other confused and happy feelings go off like fireworks inside Richie. Without thinking he surges upward on his knees and wraps his arms around Eddie’s shoulders in a tight hug. He nearly knocks Eddie backwards on the bed like an overexcited puppy happy to see you after you’ve been out of the room for five minutes.

“Ow, ow, ow! Fuck you, Richie!” Eddie complains half-heartedly, but Richie feels Eddie’s good arm slide around him returning the hug.

Loosening his grip but not letting go, Richie hides the shit-eating grin on his face in Eddie’s neck. He can feel the calm and relief radiating from Eddie and that in turn calms Richie. The lingering effects of his rage melt away, letting Richie fully give his everything to help Eddie feel better.

“Proud of you, Spagheddie,” Richie praises, slowly untangling himself from their hug.

“Thanks, Rich.” Eddie smiles softly at him. The room feels lighter, the heavy feeling there before is now gone.

In the space of that afternoon, Richie and Eddie’s lives are changed forever.

_Several weeks later…_

The moment the last syllable leaves Stan’s lips Richie knows there is a deep dark hole of regret cracking open inside Stan’s heart. Stan has never extended an offer for Richie to come bird watching with him before.

The past few weeks have Richie a nervous and bubbly wreck. Ever since Eddie’s coming out on that clusterfuck of an afternoon, Richie has been in category five hurricane-force levels of teenage angst.

Eddie came out to Stan, Ben, and Bev shortly after he did with Richie, Mike, and Bill, but swore them all to secrecy. They understand and respect that request immensely, knowing that Derry is still stuck in the darker ages with views towards LGBTQ people and also Eddie’s mom would probably be less than thrilled with the revelation. That, and it’s no one’s business but Eddie’s to tell who he wants.

Filled with the love and acceptance of his friends, Eddie cries in relief with the knowledge that the Losers know who he truly is. There’s no doubt any of them wouldn’t accept his newly confirmed sexuality, but it is still nerve-wracking for Eddie telling those you love the most who you really are inside.

It’s shortly after that Stan pulls Richie aside to ask him if he’s okay because he’s been acting weird. Well, weirder. Now instead of Eddie subtly avoiding Richie, it’s Richie subtly avoiding Eddie, or as subtle as a bull in a china shop can be. One day Richie is over at Stan’s and Eddie comes over with Ben to work on a school project. The moment Eddie enters the room Richie almost knocks over a lamp with his chaotic bundle of nervous energy and noodley limbs as he goes to get a book from his backpack. That’s when Stan really takes note that something is up and says so to Richie. Naturally, Richie gives him the standard “I’m fine, Staniel, stop worrying or you’ll get wrinkles before we graduate.”

That’s what leads to the fateful question, “do you want to come bird watching with me, Richie?” and instant regret. And then, even more, regret when Richie says yes.

Now here they are out and about in Derry near Memorial Park on an early October day bird watching. Before they leave Stan informs Richie that this is one of the last chances he has to find whatever bird (probably an ostrich or something, Richie isn’t paying much attention) before the weather turns and the bird jets down to Florida for sun and fun during the winter months.

For the most part, Richie is annoying, which is good for Richie. He only scares away several types of birds as he and Stan walk around the park and surrounding area. Although it is kinda fun to see the vein in Stan’s forehead grow a little with each interrupted bird find.

Richie wanders and asks weird and stupid questions at first actually enjoying this whole bird watching thing. He even tries to climb a tree to scare some birds down so that Stan can see them but only manages to get two feet off the ground before Stan is grabbing him by the hood of his hoodie and dragging him off.

But all too soon Richie’s mind wanders and lands on that topic that has been pretty much all-consuming for him: Eddie. His Eddie. Well, not _his_ Eddie because Eddie is his own, but fuck everything if Richie didn’t want Eddie to be his boyfriend. The word boyfriend flips and flops over inside Richie’s mind as it’s done a billion times before and sets off a fuckton of butterflies in his stomach. It’s terrifying on the level of getting punched in the dick by Superman, but also the most exciting and hopeful thing ever. Just the thought of being able to kiss Eddie makes Richie dizzy. To see those cute freckles up close, those big brown eyes filled with want, and to press his lips to Eddie’s has been on a running loop inside the Richflix of his mind. If Richie were a cartoon he’d be floating above the ground with hearts spinning around his head. It’s disgusting but also amazing.

It’s with those thoughts of big brown eyes, pink lips, and freckles that make Richie nearly collide into Stan who has stopped to try and view a bird with his binoculars over by the Standpipe.

Richie winces slightly as he watches Stan physically and audibly sigh with his whole body and soul. He has a great talent for it, that Stanley. 

Turning to face Richie, Stan frowns and lets the binoculars around his neck drop back against his chest. “You. Sit.” He points sharply over to the park bench several yards away.

“Um. Woof?”

Stan narrows his eyes. “You really want to fuck with me right now? Sit your ass down, Tozier.”

Uh oh, Stan isn’t playing around with this it seems. Richie lopes over to the bench and flops down. As soon as he does he starts bouncing his leg up and down to try and distract himself.

Ever the proper gentleman (although Richie has the receipts to prove otherwise), Stan sits down beside Richie. He looks up at the sky to the lowering autumn sun, which Richie assumes is to gather strength for the conversation ahead. Either that or Stan just wants to fry his retinas.

Richie squirms a bit as Stan turns his attention to him with the Stanley Uris Face of Serious Business™. “Okay, Richie what the fuck is going on?”

“Uhmmmm,” Richie hums, adjusting his glasses to buy a few more seconds. “The doctors say I have six months to live. My dick won’t stop growing and soon it will just consume me. There’s nothing anyone can do.” Smooth, Tozier.

“Oh my god, why do I fucking ask?” Stan throws his hands up in exasperation and then pinches the bridge of his nose. He huffs in annoyance before continuing. “Seriously, Rich, what is going on? You’ve been acting weird for weeks now. Ever since Eddie came out you’ve been…” Stan’s voice grows quieter as he puts two and two together. “Oh.”

“Welp, good talk Stannis, I think I hear mom ringing the dinner bell. Gotta get them cattle in before sundown.”

“Beep beep!” Stan almost shrieks while levelling Richie with such a concerned look that Richie doesn’t have the heart to ignore, no matter how much he wants to bolt and become a hermit never to be seen again. Stan at least deserves an explanation or something like it.

“Okay. Fuck it. I don’t really know what is wrong, okay?” Richie lies. Scowling, he crosses his arms in front of him and assumes the body language of a pouty teenager.

“I think you do, Rich. It’s not a coincidence that Eddie tells us he’s gay and you kinda,” Stan waves his hands around in a vague gesture at Richie, “act all weird. Especially when he’s in the room. You’re not...” Stan pauses, trying to find the right words. “You’re not upset that he’s gay, are you?”

“What?!” Richie’s heart drops into his stomach. He could never be upset towards anyone who identifies as gay, especially Eddie.

The alarm in Richie’s tone makes Stan panic a bit. “No, no, no! Fuck not like that! You’re one of the most open-hearted guys I know. I just mean is it bugging you because of something to do with you?”

“Me?” Now Richie is confused.

“Look, I’m not trying to force you to say anything, so if you’re not ready to say anything—if there is anything to say, I mean—but do you like guys, Rich?” Stan asks him softly. The warm late afternoon sunlight falls on Stan’s sandy blond curls, illuminating them and somehow creating the illusion that he’s filled with light. Richie finds this oddly comforting in a way.

So that’s what Stan is concerned about. With Eddie’s coming out maybe it’s sent Richie into a confused state of trying to figure out his sexuality and trying to come to some conclusion about it. Richie pauses, unable to speak for several moments. His heart is pounding in his chest as he works out the words in his brain before he speaks (for once). He knows he’s… something. He knows he wants to be with Eddie, but he’s suddenly struck dumb with adding a label to it. “I-I don’t know. I thought I liked girls. Or rather I’ve found them attractive and I’ve gotten off thinking about them before, but I can’t see myself ever dating one. I… I think—“ The rest of the words get stuck in his throat and he feels tears prick his eyes as a clarity he’s never felt before settles inside his heart.

“It’s okay, Richie. You don’t have to tell me any—“

“I like boys more,” Richie continues, looking down at his feet to avoid Stan as he tries to process what he has now said aloud. It’s not telling Stan this information that’s so terrifying, it’s letting that piece of himself that has always been wrapped in a protective bubble inside him out into the universe. It won’t ever be as protected now as it was inside him even though Richie trusts Stan with his very life.

“And that’s a perfectly okay thing,” Stan smiles, placing a hand gently on Richie’s shoulder.

Richie shrugs awkwardly under Stan’s touch unsure of what to say next. “I guess. I mean… I think I’ve known for a while that I’m not straight. I think I’m gay, but I dunno it’s all so fucking confusing and hard,” Richie laughs nervously, feeling like he’s not making sense. Putting these kinds of emotions into cohesive sentences sure is fucking hard. “But it feels… right on some level. To say it out loud, I mean.”

“I’m so proud of you, Richie. Thank you for trusting me with this.” Stan leans in giving Richie a tight hug.

Richie relaxes slightly under his friend’s touch, letting the love and warmth that Stan is projecting wrap around him like a cosy blanket. He squeezes Stan back as thank you for being the upstanding guy he is and not giving him a hard time for being a confusing or just a general mess. “Thanks, Staniel.”

Now that Stan has his suspicions confirmed he decides to jump in headfirst with the interrogation. “So you like Eddie, don’t you?”

“Of course, he’s one of my best friends,” Richie frowns, missing the whole meaning of the question.

“No, dipshit, you ‘ _like’_ like him,” Stan says rolling his eyes. “I’ve seen the way you watch him sometimes, especially at track practice and in the Clubhouse. You always have this look—“

“Oh god, I’m a dead man,” Richie groans. Panic starts to show on his face at the thought. If anyone at school knows, especially Bowers, then he really is a dead man.

“No, no, it’s not…” Stan pauses searching for the right thing to say, “it’s nothing bad. You get this kind of far off look like everything is narrowed down to just him. You get quieter and fidget less, too.”

“So everyone knows?” Now Richie is blushing, slightly alarmed that he is such a transparent idiot.

“No, I don’t think anyone has noticed, just me. And Bev, but that’s because she’s Bev. I know you, Rich. I’ve had a hunch you’ve liked Eddie as more than a friend for a while now, but wasn’t a hundred percent sure until recently.”

Richie fidgets and bites down on his bottom lip as sadness and worry that he tries to push back so hard creeps in. “But he’s a beta…”

“So?”

“Yeah, but I’m an alpha and I’m ‘supposed to be with an omega’ and… and Eddie would… Fuck, I dunno.” Richie is caught off guard by the sudden sensation of tears falling down his cheeks. Great here come the waterworks.

“Richie, there’s still time. Plus who cares if he’s a beta or omega, you can make it work. Others have. I think.” Stan shifts closer and wraps his arm around Richie’s shoulders pulling him close and holding him. “And if the worst happens then I guess we’ll just have to deal with that. But I don’t think it will.”

Using the balled up cuff of his hoodie Richie wipes at his nose, sniffling. “I’ll go on blockers for the rest of my life, I don’t fucking care about the side effects. Or I’ll get something transplanted or removed or fucking whatever it is that will make it work. I just want Eddie. I hate this whole fucking alpha thing.”

“Okay.” Richie is grateful Stan doesn’t object to the obvious danger behind any of these ideas. Stan being a beta has it so goddamn easy. If he confessed this to Eddie he’d magically pull out some kind of PowerPoint presentation from his fanny pack about all the negative and long term effects that would happen to Richie if he’d stay on blockers for the rest of his life.

“But what if he doesn’t want me?” Richie’s voice wavers as the all too real fear that Eddie may not want him latches onto his heart. Taking off his glasses to wipe the tears from his eyes with his sleeve, Richie’s world becomes a fuzzy blur of colours.

Stan chuckles a little and squeezes Richie closer to him. “I don’t think that’s going to be an issue, Richie.”

“Why?” Richie quickly turns to look at the fuzzy blob named Stan. Guarded hope skydives back into his chest.

“Because, stupid, I’m pretty sure Eddie likes you back.”

“The fuck? How do you know this? Did he tell you?” Shoving his glasses back on Richie studies the former fuzzy blob named Stan’s face. He looks amused like he knows something Richie doesn’t.

“I can see it. Bev pretty much confirmed I wasn’t alone thinking like that a while ago when she talked about you two ‘lovebirds’ arguing in the hammock. It’s not just me.” Stan gives Richie a reassuring smile. “And Eddie watches you too, you know. It may not be as obvious as you do with him, but he does.”

Richie stares off into the distance as his mind blue screens and slowly reboots. Eddie likes him. Eddie Kaspbrak likes _him_. It’s real-life now, not some crazy hopeful fantasy. This somehow makes it even more terrifying because it’s now real with a capital ‘R’.

Now what?

He doesn’t realize he said it out loud until Stan replies.

“Ask him out, dummy.”

Ask him out? Dancing naked into Mordor while surfing on a flying eagle would be easier than asking Eddie out on an actual date. 

“Um, yeah, I guess I will,” Richie gulps.


	7. Eddie, 16 years old

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Something in the room shifts as they laugh together like old times. As if all the awkwardness of the past year or more are swept away like old cobwebs in the attic. A push of the reset button. They laugh now not because of the jokes about Eddie’s mom but for the sheer joy of it and the feeling of two friends forming a deeper and stronger bond.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter warnings: Sonia Kaspbrak

Having a birthday in early September is always shitty. Sure, the birthday itself is fun and happy, lots of laughs with friends, cool (and uncool) presents, and cake, but it always comes with this looming dark oppressive shadow trying to poke its way through that bubble of celebration: a new school year.

Some kids are happy about it, sure, but they’re the type that Richie once compared to being ‘pod people from another planet, there’s no fucking way kids can actually be happy about going back to school.’ Eddie and the rest of the Losers, for the most part, agree. The problem with Eddie’s birthday being on September 3rd is that it can sometimes even land on the first day of school.

Eddie remembers when he was a small child throwing a fit having his first day back land on his birthday. It was very offensive and shouldn’t have been allowed. He had to be dragged by his mother to the front doors of the school while being scolded the whole time and told that he was being a very bad boy and to act more maturely. But when you’re turning seven years old and it’s your birthday it’s practically your god-given right as a child to raise hell about the situation. Unfortunately for Eddie school won and he had to begrudgingly start second grade on a sour note.

He sat in front of the teacher on the carpet with his other classmates stewing about how unfair it all was. That’s when a small boy sitting next to him wearing the dumbest glasses on the planet and a Pokemon t-shirt not so gently poked him in the shoulder. It was his friend Richie, a boy he met on the first day of first grade. Richie soon became best friends with him, Bill, and Stan and their little group was a force to be reckoned with.

“What?” hissed Eddie, throwing Richie a murderous glare. Everything about this day sucked, even his friends.

“Happy birthday,” Richie whispered, not seeming to really notice that Eddie was upset. “D’you want to—“

“Richie, no talking please!” The teacher at the front paused her lesson to single Richie out.

Richie grinned a little sheepishly and gave an ‘Oops! I got caught’ type of shrug and turned his always fractured attention span back to his teacher.

Richie wishing him a happy birthday seemed to calm Eddie down and he spent the rest of the day only mildly upset that he was forced against his will to go to school on his birthday.

This year Eddie manages to avoid the birthday on the first day of school disaster but only barely. They all go back tomorrow to Derry High for another year of scholarly torment. However, that also means a new track season and that gives Eddie something to look forward to. Another exciting thing to start the year off is no more Henry Bowers. Bowers and his pack of subhuman cronies all graduated at the end of the last school year. The Losers and the rest of the Derry High population, teachers included, all breathed a sigh of relief. Maybe this year won’t be all that bad.

Warm sunlight peeks through the curtains of Eddie’s bedroom illuminating the space in a golden glow. Blinking at the bright light invading his still sleep muddled mind, Eddie sighs, turning over in bed to avoid the intrusive sunlight.

Birthdays even when he doesn’t have to go back to school are still hard mainly because of his mom. She always smothers him extra on his birthdays and has always been there to put a damper on his fun. As he got older and wanted to start having girls (well, a girl, Beverly) at his birthday parties it was quickly shut down by his mom stating that it wasn't appropriate for him to do that at such a young age (eleven). It wasn’t until he turned thirteen that his mom let him go and hang out with the other Losers for his birthday party outside of Sonia’s watchful glare. But only provided that he’s in a safe and controlled environment, of course. This happened to be Bill’s, so for the last couple of years it’s been birthdays at Bill’s house. Which is great, because birthdays at Bill’s house have been the best Eddie’s has had.

Except now when he reads the text he missed from Bill while asleep:

_G’s really sick. can’t have party at my place. talking with the others to figure shit out. DON’T WORRY we’ll fix it!!!! HBD!!!!_

Eddie’s about to open the group chat when his phone buzzes with a new message. It’s from Richie:

_PARTY AT CASA DE TOZIER!!!!!_

Over two-dozen celebratory emojis and gifs show up rapid-fire following the message. It distracts Eddie from the looming dread of having to announce a change of venue to his mom.

Groaning, Eddie rolls over face down into his pillow. His mom will be less than pleased by this. She’s always thought Richie to be too much of a bad influence on Eddie with his… everything. But Eddie’s always been a staunch defender of Richie even when he doesn’t deserve it because his mom is wrong. Richie is the best, just like all the other Losers. Richie just happens to be his own weird and delightful force to be reckoned with.

“Eddie-bear!” His whole body tenses as the nickname his mom calls him rises up from the bottom of the stairs to annoy him. “Are you up, sweetheart? I’ve made a nice birthday breakfast for you!” Her words rake over ears like nails on a chalkboard. He hates it when his mother is extra sweet and loving like this. He used to think it was the best like his mom would go above and beyond on his birthday with her love. But he’s come to realize it’s another form of control just laced with a lot more sugar and prettily wrapped presents.

Eddie flops over on his side, not wanting to get up. “Yeah, be down in a minute,” he calls back.

“Don’t be too long, your pancakes will get cold!”

He quickly catches up on the group chat messages he missed. They’re all putting out the call to each other and asking parents about having them all over for Eddie’s party. Richie is the first one to come back with the good news and says his mom and dad are cool with it. Eddie can’t help but smile with fondness for Richie’s parents; he's always liked Mr and Mrs Tozier. They are nice and fair, at least to him, and still wonders sometimes how they managed to spawn the being that is Richie.

 _How much different would it be if dad were here?_ Definitely not the first or last time this thought has entered Eddie’s mind.

Replying to the group he slowly gets out of bed and pulls on a t-shirt to go with his sleep shorts. Slipping his phone into his pocket it vibrates with new messages, but they’ll have to wait until after breakfast. No checking your phone at mealtime, that is a big no-no in the Kaspbrak house. All attention must be focused on each other no matter how awkward it is.

Eddie descends the stairs, the warm scent of pancakes and bacon floating up from the kitchen making his stomach growl. Pancakes have always been a favourite of Eddie’s, especially with strawberries and whipped cream. Eddie pads into the kitchen, still rumpled looking and hair sticking out at all odd angles. Sonia stands at the stove in her pink floral housecoat she prefers to wear in the summer, her hair is in curlers with a kerchief tied around them. Turning from pouring more pancake batter on the griddle Eddie can’t miss the slight frown on her face as she takes in his appearance. Usually, Eddie runs a comb through his hair before coming down for breakfast, but not today. Today is Eddie’s day. He’s sixteen and feeling rebellious! Although not combing your hair as an act of rebellion is kinda sad he has to admit.

That’s another thing he likes about Richie’s parents, he can go out with his hair looking like a proverbial rats nest and get away with it. But not Eddie, oh no, a son with an unkempt appearance is not the image that Sonia Kaspbrak wants to be associated with.

Sitting down, Eddie grabs the carton of orange juice and pours himself a glass. He takes a few sips and begins the morning ritual of taking his vitamins. Picking one out from the pillbox that his mother arranges weekly so that she can keep track that he’s taking every single one, Eddie pops the vitamin in his mouth and swallows. He works his way down the alphabet as his mother finishes making pancakes and frying the bacon.

Sonia places the large plate of pancakes followed by a plate of bacon on the table and comes over to kiss her son’s head. “Happy birthday, Eddie-bear!” She cups his cheeks and squeezes hard enough that Eddie is forced to make a duck face. “Sixteen! Oh my baby boy is growing up too fast.” Her eyes begin to mist over.

“Mom…” Eddie complains, but this happens every birthday so it’s not unexpected. His mom cries over how old he’s getting and he sits there awkwardly as she laments about him as a baby and a small child and how precious he is to her. Ah, how time flies! After what seems forever she lets go with a small sniffle and sits down.

Stabbing a fork into several pancakes, Eddie drags them over to his plate and begins to slather them with butter and maple syrup. He doesn’t miss that the real maple syrup is on the table today rather than the usual low sugar crap that he’s given on non-birthday occasions. There’s even a small bowl of whipped cream and cut up strawberries next to them. He heaps them on top of the pancakes not caring if he’ll get instant diabetes if he does. He throws a few mixed berries and a slice of melon onto his plate to make sure his mom doesn’t complain that all he’s eating is the pancakes and bacon. Eddie digs in and thankfully enjoys his birthday breakfast without too much complaining or nagging from his mom.

When they’re done and the dishes have been cleared he makes a move to go back up to his room, eager to reply to his friend’s messages. “Wait, Eddie,” his mom says. He sits back down curiously waiting for her to continue but is instead met with silence.

She leaves the kitchen, her pink floral housecoat billowing out like a cape as she moves, returning a moment later with a small wrapped box and card. Eddie feels the mood in the room shift; a different kind of melancholy than just a son growing up exudes from his mother. She seems almost nervous about something and Eddie can’t really understand why until she places the small box and card down in front of him.

“Th-this is from your father,” Sonia says, her voice wobbly. “He asked me to give this to you for your sixteenth birthday.” She takes a tissue out of her housecoat pocket to dab at the tears in the corner of her eye.

Eddie stares at the box and card, both worn at the edges with age and a little beat up from being in storage. His heart is frozen and he can’t think. He’s gotten cards posthumously from his father before as a kid, one being a Christmas card that he wrote to Eddie the first Christmas he spent without him. It disturbed Eddie so much that his mother had to hide the card for years because a five-year-old Eddie couldn’t comprehend why his dad was giving him cards when he was no longer around.

 _Eddie_ is written on the front of the envelope in a long-forgotten handwriting. The card is heavy in Eddie’s hand as he holds it. Not because it’s filled with anything, but more of the weight of your father communicating with you twelve years after he’s died. A man Eddie barely remembers and wishes every day he could remember more, but as he grows older the more his dad slips away. Now he’s about to connect with him again, only this person is more a stranger than a father to him now.

“Go on, open it,” Sonia encourages. Eddie wants to lash out and tell her to leave him alone and let him take his time with this. You don’t just give a kid something like this and expect him to be excited about it. But he knows this is hard for her as well and his good-natured heart wins so he pushes his own feelings aside for his mom’s happiness. Slowly he works his pinkie finger under the loose paper to lift up the flap. The glue is old and gives way easily, letting him open the envelope without tearing the paper. Slowly he pulls out the card and can’t help the tears that immediately prick his eyes.

There’s a cartoon taco with a party hat on it that says _Ay Caramba! You’re turning 16 let’s taco ‘bout it!_ It’s a total dad joke and Eddie’s heart aches furiously wanting to have that kind of relationship, bad dad jokes and all. His mom never really tried to date anyone after his father’s death; he was an alpha and his mom an omega. She never fully came to terms with losing her husband and life partner. She dedicated everything to Eddie after that.

Eddie opens the card and his heart gives a stuttering thump as he sees the handwriting inside. He has to blink a few times to clear the tears from his eyes so he can read.

_Eddie,_

_Sixteen years old! How time flies! I’m sure you’re going to be having a big party with all your friends today and maybe even have a special girl on your arm? If that’s a secret that’s okay, I won’t tell your mom._

Eddie swallows hard around the lump in his throat. _A special girl_ … Fuck. He knows his dad meant it as a joke but the harsh reality that Eddie’s father may not have approved of him being gay crosses his mind for the first time. He shoves those thoughts away hard and fast, not even trying to think about that right now. What is the point anyways?

_I’m sorry I can’t be there to celebrate with you, Eddie; you deserve to have your old dad around for your birthdays and so much more. I wish I were there to see you grow up into the fine young man I have no doubt you are today. You are everything to your mother and me and I love you so much. I will forever be watching over you and proud of you._

_Happy 16th Birthday, son._

_Love, Dad_

Tears now flow freely down Eddie’s face as he finishes reading. He wants his dad. He wants his dad here right now so fiercely it physically hurts in his chest like a vice around his heart. Why was he robbed of this? Why did cancer have to take him when there were so many other horrible people in the world that deserved to die instead?

“What did he say, Eddie?” His mom’s words cut through his frustrated heartache, pulling him back.

“Just happy birthday,” Eddie mumbles, wiping at his eyes with the heel of his palm.

“I hardly think he would just say that,” Sonia admonishes softly.

Anger flares inside Eddie. Why can’t he just keep this between him and his dad? He has practically nothing that hasn’t been invaded by his mother meant for just the two of them. He doesn’t want his mother touching the card and making this about her. “I’m sure you know already. You probably told him what to write!”

“Eddie!” Sonia leans back in her chair, shocked. Her red-rimmed eyes are wide with disbelief that her son could say such a thing to her.

Instantly regretful, Eddie goes quiet, unable to meet his mom’s eyes. His anger and resentment bubbled up to the surface ruining a moment that is supposed to be special. “I’m sorry, mom. I just…”

“You’re upset,” Sonia says, her tone a clipped. “I knew I shouldn’t have given you this. I should have waited until you were an adult and could handle a present of this nature.”

Now Eddie regrets that he didn’t say something harsher. How dare she think he wasn’t equipped to handle something like this? Something that his dad obviously took great care and love to do. Eddie couldn’t imagine how hard it was for his dad to write a card that wouldn’t be read for twelve fucking years knowing that you’ll soon be dead and wouldn’t get to see your son grow up.

Eddie clenches his jaw trying to trap all the words from spilling out of his mouth. If he let them out then it would definitely be the worst birthday he would have and he wouldn’t even be allowed to go to his own fucking birthday party.

“I’m fine, mom. I wasn’t expecting this. It’s just taken me by surprise, is all. I’m sorry.” He looks up at her trying to hide his true feelings behind his best ‘I’m sorry mommy’ face. Luckily Sonia buys it. She reaches across the kitchen table and pats his hand as a sign that she forgives him. As she lets go she picks up the card to read without Eddie’s permission.

Defeated, Eddie turns his attention to the small wrapped box. He unwraps the slightly faded colourful paper while his mother cries fresh tears as she reads the card. Eddie uncovers a small suede-covered box that to him looks like it could hold some sort of jewellery. He’s almost correct as he lifts up the hinged lid to reveal a watch sitting on a small satin cushion. It’s gold with an ivory white dial and gold hands and markers. The strap is dark brown leather. Gently, Eddie lifts out the watch and notices the wear on the leather of the strap and slight scratches on the face of the watch.

“Oh, Eddie…” Sonia breathes out, hand to her chest.

Eddie doesn’t have to ask; he knows this is his father’s watch.

With a loud sniffle, Sonia leans over to get a better look. “His own father gave that to him on his sixteenth birthday. And now it’s yours, Eddie-bear.” She smiles at him and Eddie cannot help but smile back.

He runs his fingertips over the face of the watch and strap, feeling every bump, scratch, and crack. Feeling his father’s life marked forever in the metal, glass, and worn leather. Turning it over another swell of heartache hits Eddie hard as he reads the engraving on the back: Frank Kaspbrak.

 _Thanks, dad_ , Eddie says silently. He can’t seem to speak right now, he’s only able to look and feel this object that was literally and figuratively so close to his dad when he was alive.

“That’s going to need a new battery and maybe a strap,” Sonia announces and makes a move to take the watch. “I’ll take it in to see—“ but is stopped when Eddie quickly jerks the watch out of her reach.

“No!” Eddie yelps out, slightly panicked. Shit, maybe he shouldn’t have reacted that way as the look of betrayal on Sonia’s face makes him pause. Like the card, he doesn’t want his mother to touch this. “No, mom. I want to do that if you’re okay with it. If dad wants me to have it I need to learn how to take care of it.” Congratulations on another successful bullshit answer.

Sonia studies Eddie for a few moments before she nods in agreement. “Of course dear, that’s very thoughtful of you. Your father would be proud of you wanting to take care of it like that.”

“Thanks, mom.” Eddie places the watch to his wrist and begins to measure out what hole to put the fastener through.

“Oh no, Eddie-bear, put it back in the box,” Sonia orders.

Eddie’s taken aback by her command. He looks at her with a puzzled frown. “Why?”

“It hurts mommy too much to see that right now, you need to put it away.” She smiles sadly at him.

“But, mom, he gave it to me! I want to wear it!”

“Eddie, please!” Sonia begins to breathe heavily as if this is taking a huge toll on her. “It’s painful for me to see something like that of your father’s. I miss him so much. I’ll let you know when you can wear it.”

Is his mother really...? Of fucking course she is. Why would Eddie think that he could have control over when he could wear his own father’s fucking watch? Anger that he can’t even verbalize boils under the surface as he places the watch back on the small cushion and closes the lid with a hard snap.

“Thank you, Eddie.” Sonia gets up from the table and clears away the ripped wrapping paper. She grabs for the envelope but Eddie snatches it away, slightly pleased by the surprised ‘oh!’ this elicits from his mom.

“I just… his handwriting,” Eddie manages to somehow say without any of the biting anger he’s feeling.

Sonia smiles sympathetically at her son, probably thinking that he is being overly sentimental. “Of course.” She comes over and places another kiss to the top of Eddie’s head. It takes Eddie every ounce of willpower not to recoil.

More than eager to get back upstairs to his room, Eddie grabs the box and card and bolts upright out of his chair.

“What time is the party, Eddie?” Sonia asks just as he enters the doorway.

“Gotta be at Richie’s around three. Stan is picking me up.”

“Richie’s? I thought this was at Bill’s place?”

Eddie wants to hurl himself off a cliff in that very moment for his slip up. “Umm yeah, about that…”

Nearly forty-five minutes of convincing his mom that this is better because Georgie Denbrough is sick, then a twenty-minute phone conversation between his mother and Mrs Tozier later, Eddie has the green light to attend his own fucking birthday party. Eddie’s fuming that his mom even suggested uninviting Bill to the party because he could be contagious. Fuck that. Bill could have some kind of contagious leprosy and he’d still invite him.

Dressed and with a proper hair brushing, Eddie sits on his bed checking his Instagram feed. There are some nice stories from the guys featuring photos of them together and wishing Eddie a happy birthday. His bad mood is significantly lessened now that he’s seen the well wishes and dumb content (mostly from Richie) that is dedicated to him.

The group chat pings with a new message. Opening it up there’s a photo of several dusty looking Super Soaker water guns on a kitchen table and a message from Richie.

_DUG THESE OUT FROM THE BASEMENT!!!!! U GUYS ARE SOAKED!_

A new message arrives.

Stan: _I think you mean toast._

Richie: _PUNS STANIEL. PUNS. We talked about this._

Laughing at Stan’s obvious button pushing and Richie never failing to rise to the bait, Eddie gets up to gather his swim trunks and beach towel. Building excitement for the party help wash away the last frustrations and anger from this morning. This is going to be a good birthday.

Despite such short notice of change of venue, Eddie is quite surprised and touched at the level of decorating and birthdayness that seems to have exploded around the Tozier household. It isn’t epic levels of decorating, but there are balloons and Happy Birthday banners strung up across the Tozier family room and kitchen. The kitchen has a bunch of snacks laid out on the counter and a minibar of pop and other beverages (non-alcoholic despite Richie’s complaining to let him spike some of the drinks). When Mrs Tozier corners Eddie to give him the obligatory birthday hug he’s stunned to find out that a lot of this is due to Richie and not her.

“Thanks for doing this on such short notice, Mrs Tozier,” Eddie flushes slightly, feeling awkward.

“Oh, it’s no problem, dear!” Mrs Toizer laughs and turns back to setting out more food and napkins. “It’s actually Richie that did most of it. He went out earlier and got the food and balloons.”

Eddie stands there momentarily unable to speak. Richie did this? Did the spirit of some dead party planner come in to inhabit his body? Confused, Eddie quickly looks at the decorations and food in a new Richie tinted light. A warmth blooms inside his chest that he can’t really place, but it makes him feel special.

Before he can say anything the doorbell rings and a Richie shaped blur darts through the kitchen past Eddie towards the front door. “I’ll get it! Dude, stop making out with my mom and get your ass outside!”

Groaning, Eddie flushes scarlet while Mrs Tozier laughs. “You have my permission to run out off the room now, Eddie.”

Embarrassed but relieved Eddie does just that, thanking Mrs Tozier again as he goes outside to sit with Mike and Stan in the backyard.

The party starts and soon all the resentment and anger from earlier with his mom is forgotten. Richie, in all his awkward glory, starts the water fight by ambushing everyone from behind a bush, spraying everyone while cackling with glee. Naturally, his _Scarface_ impersonation is complete shit, but that only adds to the fun. Eddie and the others yell and shriek, running to claim a water gun from the pile near the garden hose. Bill brought some of Georgie’s hand me down water guns over so no one would be without. Luckily, Eddie and everyone changed into their desired water fight attire before Richie let all hell loose.

Of course, Eddie runs circles around everyone and teams up with Ben despite the others yelling at them how that so isn’t fair. The two track athletes against the ‘regular guys’ is a hate crime. Eddie’s only response is to shoot a jet of water directly at Richie’s face. Glasses wet and unable to see, Eddie and Ben make a run for it while Richie is quite literally temporarily blinded.

“Ooooh, playing dirty there, Eds. I don’t know whether to shoot or kiss ya!” Richie calls out after them, cackling.

The Losers civil war rages on in the back and front yard of the Tozier’s house. Eddie couldn’t be happier; everyone is having fun and not letting the last day of summer vacation get them down.

A truce is called when Richie is laid flat on his back on the green lawn with Bill standing over him, water gun nozzle pointed just a few inches away from his head. “It’s o-over, Richie. Any last wo-words?”

“Food!” Richie huffs out in a laugh. “I’m hungry!”

“Yeah, me too, man!” Mike agrees, moving from his position of guarding Bill’s back lowering his water gun.

They pile into the kitchen, wet and sticky and with towels wrapped around themselves. Richie’s back is covered with grass from lying on the lawn all wet and each time he bumps into things or people he leaves a bit of himself behind.

“Ugh, get your swampy ass away from me!” Eddie complains as Richie bumps into him to avoid colliding with Mike.

“You sure, Eds? I think you like my ass more than you’re letting on!” Richie winks at him but then an odd expression almost like ‘oh shit too far’ crosses his face.

Eddie blushes at the comment and immediately turns his attention to piling on more Cheetos onto his plate of snacks. His stomach feels kinda fluttery and nervous.

That’s been the case more and more with Richie over the past months. He knows why but can’t work up the nerve to say anything. This is Richie, his friend, and he doesn’t want to jeopardize that in any way or make it weird. Yet he hasn’t been able to shake the feeling that something has definitely changed between them and for good or bad he can’t really say.

Sometimes when he’s been alone with Richie there have been times when Richie seems like he’s desperately trying to say something, but can’t. He always takes a sharp turn to a completely different topic the second it becomes uncomfortable for him. It’s been happening almost since the beginning of the last school year since Eddie came out. One time Richie even asked him point blank if he could ask Eddie a question, only to have the moment interrupted by Bill and Mike. The way Richie looked after being interrupted has lingered with Eddie for a while now. Richie had been angry and distant, even leaving the group shortly after not wanting to stick around with them for the rest of the day.

The dumb thought that maybe Richie was trying to ask him out had crossed Eddie’s mind, but he quickly dismissed it. Richie liking him back the way he feels about Richie is fucking lunacy.

So Eddie continues to fill his plate with snacks and stomp down those fluttery and nervous feelings that are all too frequent when he’s around Richie.

When he and Richie reach the entrance to the backyard at the same time old habits hit hard when they try to beat the other outside by squeezing through the doorway first. It’s been a lot harder over the years since they’ve both grown, especially Richie who has shot up to six fucking feet and doesn’t seem to ever stop growing. Honestly, who gave him the right?

Eddie tries to squeeze past but is a bit surprised when Richie relents to let Eddie through first. This isn’t the usual Richie etiquette.

“Uh, thanks,” Eddie mumbles, looking up at him but doesn’t move. His shoulder is lightly pressed against Richie’s bicep and the skin-to-skin contact crackles with electric sensations.

“No probs, Spagheddie,” Richie smiles at him awkwardly, his large magnified eyes wide with an emotion Eddie’s never quite seen before on his friend.

Eddie, for whatever reason, is hyper-focused on the damp curls of Richie’s hair stuck to his forehead and around his ears. The need to run his fingers over them to smooth them back off of Richie’s skin slams into Eddie like a freight train. No, not exactly that, it’s not the hair per se, it’s the intense need to simply touch Richie with his hands that steals his breath away. Eddie doesn’t realize that he’s begun to wheeze slightly. His world is narrowed down into this moment that feels like he’s on a tipping point of something big and new.

 _Richie, can I kiss you?_ Eddie’s body practically vibrates with the absolute want and desperate longing to hear what the answer will be. His mind empties of every conflicting emotion about his friendship with Richie and doubt about the situation. Eddie parts his lips to speak, ready to take that terrifying step into the unknown. “Richie, can—“

A chip flies in front of his eyes, bouncing off the side of Richie’s cheek. Flinching, Richie’s attention is immediately redirected to Bev and Ben a few feet away who are calmly holding their plates.

“Hey assholes, you’re holding up the line,” Bev smirks, picking another chip off her plate and holding it up ready to throw.

For the first time in his life Eddie really dislikes Bev.

“Excuse you, Eddie and I were in the middle of an important discussion.” Richie grumps, rolling his eyes as if it were obvious and rude for them to interrupt them so.

“Must have been pretty intense, you got Eddie pretty worked up!” Ben laughs good-naturedly.

That’s when Eddie realizes his breathing has become shallow and fast. Fuck. He was too consumed with the need to kiss Richie to recognize the symptoms. Everything is too bright, too constricting, too loud, and too electrically charged to process. Richie’s body being so close to Eddie’s is too much that it almost hurts on a physical level. He has to get away from him. Eddie bolts from the door nearly dropping his plate as he does. Dropping his plate on the patio table he quickly scrambles for his fanny pack that he left on his chair earlier.

Tightness squeezes inside his chest as he fumbles with the zipper. His heart jackhammers at the mortifying thought of what nearly happened and what he nearly asked Richie. He was actually going to ask if he could kiss him! Richie. His friend! How the fuck could he? And in a fucking doorway where all his friends could see if they wanted to. No, no, no this is not good at fucking all.

Eddie grabs his inhaler and presses it to his mouth. The sharp wheezing from his chest immediately lessens as he inhales the medicine telling his lungs to chill the fuck out. Everything around Eddie is muted and narrowed down to this relief. Relief that he can breathe again at least, he doesn’t know how he’ll be able to look Richie in the eye after that moment.

Which is exactly what happens seconds later as Eddie comes down from his asthma attack and Richie is right there in front of him, concern and something almost like sadness in his eyes. Eddie almost squeaks with surprise as he realizes Richie is there right in fucking front of him. Everyone else has sat down while watching Eddie closely without saying a word.

“You okay?” Richie asks.

Eddie blinks; trying to keep his mortification of the situation to himself and triggering another spiral into another attack so soon. “Yeah, yeah. I’m fine.” Using the excuse of putting his inhaler away he turns, putting a stop to any more awkward moments. He can feel Richie hesitate behind him, not wanting to move away from him so soon, but Eddie doesn’t look at him again. Instead, he sits down and the party continues as if nothing’s happened. He’s grateful that no one comments further on the situation. As Richie sits down across the table from him Eddie takes care to avoid any eye contact.

The birthday party goes full steam ahead and Eddie enjoys himself except for that underlying feeling of simultaneously needing to get as far away from Richie while also getting as close to him as possible. It is fucking infuriating and as the evening goes on the more Eddie becomes irritated.

Pizza is ordered and consumed in large quantities. Eddie happily eats several large slices and kinda wishes his mom were here so he could rub it in her face. Pizza is not often on the Kaspbrak menu unless it is gluten, fat, sugar, fun, and taste-free.

To fend off slipping into a pizza coma the Losers pile into Richie’s family room to watch some movies. The debate whether to start with an action, horror, or comedy movie is intense, but it’s ultimately left to Eddie since he’s the birthday boy. Decision made, they settle in and begin the movie. Eddie’s squished down at one end of the couch while Richie sits cross-legged at the other end on the floor leaning back against the armrest.

Halfway through the movie, Eddie’s phone vibrates several times. Since he’s here with all his friends that can only mean one person: his mom. Eddie tries desperately to ignore those messages for as long as he can but the constant buzzing of his mom’s texts make him snap. Angrily he pulls out his phone and reads all the mundane bullshit that his mother has sent him that could have waited until he got home. But among those messages, there is one that makes him beyond furious.

_I’ve put your father’s watch back in storage. When you’re ready to get it looked at and a new battery you can have it back._

“Fuck you,” he hisses at his phone, not fully realizing he’s said it aloud _._

What is he, five years old? How fucking dare she do this to him! And going into his room and taking the watch from his desk! Eddie can’t even form a reply, he’s too angry. Instead, he hurriedly gets up from the couch and stomps up to the second floor with the concerned questions of his friends following behind him. He ignores them all, afraid that if he speaks he’ll lash out his anger on someone who doesn’t deserve it.

For some reason, he’s not even sure why Eddie ends up in Richie’s room. The familiar teenage clutter and chaos of Richie’s things are strewn around. Books stacked on top of each other, clothes in various piles on the floor, his computer chair, and bed. No longer played with action figures but still kept because of sentimental value stand on various surfaces around the space. Early evening light pours in through the large window giving everything a soft blue and purple tint, easing a little of Eddie’s anger. And because this is Richie’s space and because Eddie is allowed to be who he really is with his friends he finds the room comforting.

Taking a deep breath, Eddie exhales trying to steel himself to send a reply to his mom. Luckily a soft knock at the door prevents him from doing that.

“Um, Eddie? You okay? Like, really?” Richie asks a bit nervously but in a calm tone like if Eddie is a wild animal he doesn’t want to spook. He hangs in the doorway uncertain if he should come in or not.

“Not really,” Eddie sighs. There’s no point in pretending he isn’t after the way he left everyone.

Richie creeps forward slowly but maintains his distance. “I told the others I’m on recon so if no one hears from me in thirty minutes they’re to assume I’m dead.”

Eddie laughs a little at the joke easing the nervous tension. “It’s my mom.”

“No shit.”

Eddie tells Richie about the watch and shows him the text.

“Wow,” is all that Richie says which is surprising because Eddie had been expecting a bit more.

“Yeah, I know,” Eddie sighs and sits down on the edge of Richie’s bed slumped forward, elbows on his knees.

“That fucking cunt.”

The absolute venom in Richie’s voice and the use of the word cunt to describe his mother slaps Eddie hard and he’s momentarily left reeling at it. Richie has never made it a secret that he doesn’t like his mom, but this is next level.

“Holy fuck, Rich,” Eddie gasps.

Richie levels Eddie with a hard unapologetic look. “I’m not sorry I said that. She has no right to fucking do that to you. Your fucking dad’s watch! What the fuck, dude?” He begins to fidget and move around the room almost like a caged animal, anxious for something he can’t have.

“No, you’re right. She’s… she’s getting worse, Rich.” The older Eddie has gotten the more it's felt like the invisible leash around his neck has been pulled tighter and tighter. Maybe it’s the natural progression of a teenager growing up and wanting more freedom, but somehow Eddie knows without a shadow of a doubt that this is his mom through and through. Almost as if she’s desperately trying to grasp and hold onto something that is no longer her’s.

Seemingly surprised at Eddie’s agreement with his statement Richie stops pacing and sits down next to Eddie on the bed.

“What can I do? What can we do?” Richie asks with a desperate note in his voice.

Shrugging, Eddie’s mind draws a blank. “There’s not much you can do, I think. What _can_ you do to get my mom to fucking stop all her bullshit with me? And don’t say murder.”

Acting shocked, Richie gasps. “I would never!”

“But you’re thinking about it!”

Smiling a bit sheepishly, Richie nervously scratches at the back of his head. “Okay, yeah. But it was going to be a nice murder. Nothing messy!”

“Uh huh.” Eddie doesn’t believe it for a minute. Knowing Richie it would probably involve bombs or fireworks or some big explosion. The mental image of Richie all mad scientist looking while blowing up his mom with fireworks like something out of _Looney Toons_ makes him giggle then turn into a full-blown laugh.

Richie studies him nervously. “’Fraid I missed the joke, Spagheddie.”

“Fuck. No, I was just picturing you blowing up my mom with fireworks while you looked like Doc Brown.”

“Dude!” Richie’s huge eyes widen even more behind his glasses. “That. Is. Epic. Oh my god, Eds your mind.” Richie presses his fingertips to his lips and does a loud chef’s kiss impersonation.

The absolutely absurdity of thinking about his mother being murdered makes Eddie laugh harder and he and Richie exchange ludicrous ideas while doubled over gasping for air. The more Eddie jokes the more the anger and frustration dissipate. It’s fucked up and disturbing on probably many levels, but it works. He’s still angry, but now it’s not this all-consuming heat that makes him want to do or say something to his mother that he shouldn’t.

Something in the room shifts as they laugh together like old times. As if all the awkwardness of the past year or more are swept away like old cobwebs in the attic. A push of the reset button. They laugh now not because of the jokes about Eddie’s mom but for the sheer joy of it and the feeling of two friends forming a deeper and stronger bond.

Eddie wipes the tears of laughter from his eyes, still giggling. Richie is doing the same, his glasses pushed up on the top of his head. Eddie blushes and is thankful that Richie probably can’t make him out too well right now. The fluttering feeling inside him is back, only this time Eddie welcomes it with open arms.

“So, uh, Eds,” Richie begins, pulling his glasses back down on his nose and adjusts them. His leg bounces up and down causing the bed to vibrate.

“Yeah, Rich?” A weird kind of hope fills Eddie’s heart.

“I gotta give you your present!”

That isn’t what Eddie expected. “Uhhh, you gave me that gift card, dork.”

“Oh yeah, no. My mom actually got that for me to give to you.” Richie bites his bottom lip looking sort of embarrassed. Getting up he goes to his dresser and opens the top drawer. As he rummages around he says, “I actually got you something awhile ago but forgot to tell mom so you get double this year. Ah, here you are!” Richie spins around excitedly holding a small messily wrapped package that is more tape than wrapping paper. Standing in front of Eddie he hands it over. “Happy birthday, Spagheddie!”

With a bemused smile, Eddie takes the small package from him, his fingertips brushing against Richie’s as he does. The brief skin-to-skin contact causes the fluttering sensation inside him to dial up to eleven. He holds the small present in his hand, surprised at the weight of it. Picking at the ridiculous amount of tape covering the paper Eddie manages to get through and rips the rest off.

A small golden metal object about three inches in width is revealed. Puzzled, Eddie can’t quite make out what it is until he turns it over and recognizes the three digits next to each other connected with a metal bar, it reads 911. All sound is sucked out of the room in that moment leaving everything silent except for the loud thudding of Eddie’s heart in his ears. The only thing Eddie is capable of doing is to stare open-mouthed like a goldfish at the present Richie has given him. It’s an emblem for the engine lid of a classic Porsche 911.

He’s barely aware of Richie pulling a Tigger with bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet clearly anxious to hear what Eddie thinks. “Ummm, yeah. S-so I did some research and that’s supposed to go with ‘64 to ‘66 models. I think you said you wanted to restore a ’65? I hope it’s okay.”

Running a thumb over the cool metal and curves of the numbers, Eddie still can’t form proper words. Richie. Richie fucking Tozier has given him an actual part for the restoration of his dream car. Eddie doesn’t even have his fucking drivers licence yet. His mom is still trying to decide if she is okay with him learning to drive yet.

The words Richie had said moments ago finally seem to click. “Richie… I told you that fucking forever ago,” Eddie says with awe. He barely remembers the day, it wasn’t anything special, just he and Richie hanging out and talking. The topic of what they’d want to do after high school came up and somehow landed on Eddie wanting to restore a 1965 Porsche 911. That had to be one, no, almost two years ago now? He hasn’t spoken about it since to anyone. But Richie remembered and gave him this.

“Y-yeah. Well, I figured I’d help start you out,” Richie says nervously. He can’t stand still as he exudes the same amount of wiggly nervous energy of a small puppy, only tenfold. “Look, Eds, if it’s the wrong fuckin’ thing I can return—“

The rest of Richie’s words turn to white noise as the clarity of everything settles over and wraps around Eddie’s heart. Richie loves him. There’s no way he doesn’t, not after this. All those nervous moments between them over the past couple of years, all the awkward interactions, the weird feelings that blossom inside whenever their eyes meet each other fall into place making total sense. The scope of emotions that ricochet throughout Eddie now cannot be put into words. It’s too big, too new, but it’s the best feeling in the universe.

_Richie loves me._

Slowly, Eddie gets up off the bed, letting the small emblem fall from his hand onto the mattress. Richie is still fidgeting and babbling away, but Eddie can’t process the words. He can only think of one thing and one thing only.

_Richie loves me._

Love makes people do things they wouldn’t do or even attempt, love makes people brave and break barriers. Eddie now knows down to every atom of his being that this is right and with that all encompassing love he feels like the bravest person alive. Stopping a couple of inches in front of Richie; Eddie smiles so widely and brightly that it immediately stops Richie mid disjointed sentence. Their eyes lock and Eddie almost wants to laugh at the sheer terror and hope that are reflected in those big coke bottle magnified eyes.

“Eddie…” Richie barely manages to breathe out right before Eddie goes up on his tiptoes and presses his lips to Richie’s.

The kiss is soft and warm, closemouthed and sorta crooked. Eddie’s mind is calm and serene which is the complete opposite of what he would have expected when sharing your first kiss with your best friend. Love engulfs his heart and he almost wants to cry with how powerful it sweeps him under. Everything is so warm and full now, places inside him he didn’t know were lacking love fill with a tsunami of bright light and hope. His love for Richie.

Eddie places his hands on Richie’s shoulders to keep his balance steady as he stands on his tiptoes. He hates and loves that Richie is so fucking tall all at once.

A million years but also within the blink of an eye later they pull apart. A bubble of love and silence envelop them as they stare at each other a little breathless, cheeks flushed. Eddie lowers himself back down, not taking his eyes off of Richie’s, which now have this amazing warmth in them, all visible hints of nervousness and doubt swept away.

Eddie’s the first to break eye contact feeling a little embarrassed, not because he’s kissed Richie, but staring at someone who truly see’s into you so deeply is a bit intimidating regardless of how good this feels. His cheeks feel hot but he doesn’t care how badly he’s blushing now. “So…”

“So…” Richie echos.

They both laugh and Eddie lightly fists the fabric of Richie’s shirt in his hands to anchor him to the ground in case he floats away. Love makes you feel very floaty Eddie realizes.

“Um, thanks for the birthday present,” Eddie says quietly. Without thinking he licks his lips and a little thrill runs through him as he watches Richie’s eyes quickly dart lower to watch his tongue swipe along them.

“Nothing to thank me for, Spagheddie.”

“Yeah, there is.”

Richie cocks his head to the side a bit in question.

If there is any doubt Eddie was blushing a lot before he sure is now as he feels his cheeks positively burn. “For seeing me. Really seeing me. A-and for loving me?” He immediately regrets phrasing that last part as a question because deep within he knows there’s no question needed.

“Fuck…” Richie says, voice definitely a little wobbly and choked. “You have no fucking idea how much I do, Eds. No fucking idea.”

This time Richie leans down to capture Eddie’s lips with his. If the first kiss was perfect then this one is even better. Their lips slowly part as they taste and move against each other, both experiencing these wonderful differing sensations for the first time. It’s still pretty tame and slow as far as kisses go but that’s fine, there’s no rush. Both of them are more than happy to take their time getting to know each other in this new and much more intimate way. They’ll have all the time in the world to practice.

_But you’re a beta remember?_

The darkness of those thoughts creep in around the edges of the happy bubble Eddie is in. They will not get in; Eddie refuses to allow these thoughts to insert their claws ruining this moment. He’s going to be with Richie and that’s that. Fuck nature and her stupid order of things.

They break apart a little more breathless than before, grinning like idiots at each other. Eddie’s about to comment on how this is the best birthday he’s ever had but before he can utter the first syllable he wrapped up in long arms and lifted off the ground in the biggest and best hug he’s ever experienced.

“Richie!” He squawks in surprise. Richie laughs, holding Eddie tight in his arms. He spins them both around and Eddie lets out another surprised noise as his world swirls around him in a blur of colours. “Richie!” Now he’s laughing. The giddy joy and laughter radiating from Richie is infectious.

The world stops spinning as fast as it began. Richie doesn’t put him down right away, instead Eddie’s held up nose to nose with Richie. They can’t stop smiling brilliantly at each other.

“Dork,” Eddie says amused.

“Can’t blame me for being so happy!” Richie lowers him down slowly but doesn’t break their hug. “My boyfriend is amazing and adorable!”

_Boyfriend…_

Eddie's breath catches in his chest as the name rolls around in his mind. Boyfriend. Yeah.

“Eds?” Richie’s face falls as panic takes hold that he’s said something wrong.

“Are you sure, Rich?”

“Uhmmm, yeah? Why?” Richie swallows nervously.

“I only ask because it’s been, like, five minutes. And we haven’t even been on a date.” He almost giggles with the visual of Richie and him on a date. A real fucking date, _holy shit_.

“Oh.” Richie pauses, thinking. “So… you’ll be my boyfriend if you go on a date with me?” He sounds so hopeful and innocent that it makes Eddie’s heart melt.

“I think we can skip that formality.”

“So that means…”

“Boyfriends,” Eddie declares with a nod.

“Boyfriends,” Richie lets out breathlessly almost as if he’s savouring the word on his tongue and it’s the most delicious thing. Then as if sunlight has lit up Richie from within, a radiant beautiful smile crosses his features. Lightning-quick he leans down beginning to pepper Eddie with tiny kisses all over his nose and cheeks.

“Oh my god, Richie! What the fuck?” Eddie laughs, trying to turn his face away from the onslaught of Richie’s kisses. He squirms around to avoid him but as fast as he can get away from Richie—which is not far when you’re still enveloped in the long ass arms of your boyfriend—Richie catches him again and again and again. “Richie!”

Finally Richie stops his weird assault releasing Eddie from his grasp. “I’ve been wanting to do that for so long.”

“What the fuck?”

“To kiss your freckles!” Richie exclaims happily.

His freckles. Eddie’s always been annoyed with his freckles as they were often a teasing point by others when he was a small child. But seeing how Richie practically glows with happiness over them, Eddie feels truly happy to have them for the first time in his life.

“You fucking loser!” Eddie rolls his eyes.

“Takes one to know one,” Richie teases, sticking out his tongue.

Eddie sticks out his tongue in response. He’s never felt happier in his entire life.

By the time Richie and Eddie leave the bedroom, it’s nearly dark out. Holding each other’s hand, they can’t take their eyes off each other as they walk to the top of the stairs. But those smiles falter as they notice two figures silhouetted in the dark at the bottom of the stairs. Suddenly the downstairs light is flicked on momentarily disorienting them with the sudden brightness. The illuminated figures are revealed to be Stan and Bev.

Panicked, Eddie roughly yanks his hand out of Richie’s, but he’s almost sure Stan and Bev have noticed.

“Uh, hey guys,” Eddie says and nearly winces at how high pitched his voice sounds.

“’Sup, bitches,” Richie grins at the two trying to play it cool but failing miserably.

“Pay up, Uris!” Bev levels Stan with a smug smile.

“Fuck,” Stan mutters, reaching in his pants pocket for his wallet.

“Woah, back the fuck up! How did you know?” Richie asks indignantly.

“Just a hunch,” Bev shrugs, smiling coyly.

“I’m really happy for the both of you,” Stan says with genuine warmth, smiling at the two of them as he opens his wallet.

“Do you all know?” Eddie asks, suddenly feeling extremely awkward and nervous.

“Just us,” Bev replies, tucking the twenty-dollar bill Stan hands her into her pocket. “But that’s as far as it goes until you’re ready to share with the others.”

Richie’s fingers brush against his hand. Just that light touch relaxes Eddie enough for him to take his hand again, lacing their fingers together.

“Whaddya think?” Richie asks. It’s a genuine question and Eddie can sense that if he said to hold off telling the others, Richie, along with Bev and Stan would respect that.

“No,” Eddie says, making up his mind. He doesn’t need to hide from those who truly accept and love him. “I want to introduce everyone to my boyfriend.”

The squeeze Richie gives his hand chases away the last lingering threads of anxiety. Eddie starts down the stairs first, heart bursting with happiness, not letting go of Richie’s hand as he does.

Richie.

His boyfriend.

Best birthday ever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're curious to see what the present Richie got him look's like you can view a [picture of it here.](https://i.imgur.com/vsntXFr.png) 😊


	8. Eddie, 17 years old

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Eddie and Ben walk onto the track to take their position for the 100 metre the crowd cheers, the friends and family of the runners being the loudest of course. They both begin to scan the crowd for Bev and Richie but they’re soon spotted because of the large poster board banner they’re enthusiastically holding up. _GOOD LUCK, SPAGHEDDIE AND BEN_ is written out in large block letters. Hearts and other doodles are all over the board. Eddie’s too far away to make it out clearly but he thinks he sees cutouts of characters like Sonic the Hedgehog and the Flash glued to the board. It’s tacky as hell but perfect.

One of the perks to secretly dating your best friend is Eddie doesn’t have to fully hide it from his mom. She still doesn’t know anything about their friendship upgrade which is the best for everyone involved. Whenever Eddie announces that he’s going out with Richie it’s nothing new, just friends hanging out together while sticking each other’s tongues down each other’s throats. Just the normal bros being bros kinda thing.

Starting school after Eddie’s sixteenth birthday as boyfriends had been exciting and nerve-wracking. Richie pretty much pinned Eddie up against his locker wanting to kiss him before realizing they were in a public space, a public space that happened to be full of their peers and their clique’s natural enemies. Richie’s actions garner a few stares but luckily no harm is done. That’s just Richie being weird as usual. Dating Richie and being so close to him all the time in school definitely makes some things difficult for Eddie. All he wants is to hold hands or kiss or lean up against his boyfriend with his arms around him.

The kids at school are more progressive than the general conservative opinion of the town towards LGBTQ+ people and now with Bowers and Co off to military school, reform school, or another planet there’s not the same level of concern about being true to oneself as before. But the fear of Eddie and Richie’s relationship status getting out around town and back to their parents, mainly Eddie’s mom, is a big concern for Eddie. So they try to play it as cool as possible.

Kisses and soft touches are stolen between classes in quiet and empty corners, rooms, and the section of the library where the super boring literature is kept that no one visits unless absolutely necessary. They become pros with their covert little make out sessions and no one except the Losers are the wiser.

The first official date happens a week after Eddie’s birthday. Not wanting to risk the disapproval and bigotry of Derry on such a special occasion the two decide to head out near Bangor to the much more modern movie theatre and places for entertainment. Eddie barely remembers what the movie is about; all he remembers is the way Richie cannot keep his hands off him. The constant need Richie has to touch him surprises Eddie a bit at first. They’re not sexual or lewd touches, it’s simply Richie needing to hold hands or lightly brush his fingertips up and down Eddie’s arm, which leave pleasant sensations and a trail of goosebumps on his skin. It’s exciting and new and feels good inside and out. Eddie is more than happy to let Richie touch him whenever appropriate.

As the two settle blissfully into their relationship the growing apprehension that this is only temporary begins to hammer against Eddie’s thoughts like a battering ram. He hates it and wishes like hell that he could at least get some kind of final answer about who he really is, but when has nature ever given clear answers to anyone on demand. Richie is steadfast about them being together regardless while always reassuring Eddie it doesn’t matter because he’s never going to stop loving and wanting him.

This is the catalyst that sparks the first real fight of their young relationship. The first fight is always the worst people say and for Eddie and Richie it’s a doozy. Eddie absolutely refuses to let Richie endanger his future mental and physical health just for him so they can be together indefinitely. If he does then Richie isn’t any better than his mother, shackling him to a relationship that would be built on guilt and love that will slowly fester and rot into resentment and anger. Eddie would sadly be better off without Richie than be in a relationship with him like that. Richie is everything he hoped and dreamed about love and he deserves that in its purest form.

It guts them both, but deep down they both know it’s true. The decision to love each other for as long as they can help, but it will always feel like there is an invisible clock counting down to midnight where Richie will inevitably turn into a pumpkin. Or something, but it’s the best and stupidest metaphor Richie has to make light of the situation. Lots of tears are shed from both of them and holding each other tightly in their arms.

The first night after the fight Eddie’s woken up to his window being jimmied open and cool late March air rushing into his room. Still too sleepy to fully understand what is going on he’s slightly shocked when he feels a heavy weight settle beside him on his mattress, then immediately relaxes as his body and other senses realize it’s Richie. Eddie doesn’t turn around; he lets Richie adjust position behind him, his chest pressing against Eddie’s back. Long arms wrap around his midsection like they never want to let go. This is the first time that Richie’s snuck into his bedroom like this in years. Nothing is spoken; the sounds of the boys steady breathing the only sounds softly filling the room. Richie holds Eddie tight and safe and Eddie’s heart nearly shatters with the intensity of how much he doesn’t want Richie to ever let go. They lie like that for what seems like hours until Richie softly kisses the back of Eddie’s neck, making the hairs stand up and heart flutter with pleasure.

“I swear we better be together for fucking ever, but if it—“

“Don’t say it, Richie,” Eddie begs sadly.

“If it comes to the fucking unthinkable we’ll just have to deal,” Richie finishes without any real emotion behind the words. He buries his nose into the back of Eddie’s neck, inhaling. Eddie likes it when Richie does this; he finds it oddly calming for him.

After that they continue on as normal, only now everything is tinged with more greys, the bright colours of their relationship a little duller and worn around the edges. The only thing they can do now is hope that some miracle will happen and Eddie would present as an omega. There’s still time even if that window of opportunity is too quickly getting narrower and narrower.

A small amount of hope is given to Eddie shortly after the fight when he comes down with a low-grade fever and aches and pains, but sadly this turns out to be a mild case of the flu according to his doctor.

But soon something begins to happen to Eddie after his first bout of the flu, which still causes him worry to this day. Eddie has been getting low-grade fevers on a regular basis as well as a general feeling of being wiped out. They’re a lot easier to hide in the summer months, the heat lending him cover from his mom and the other Losers. But then the final year of high school for the Losers begins and Eddie struggles to hide it more and more.

One day in October he’s sent to the nurse’s office after one of his teachers feels that he’s in no shape to be in class. After the nurse hangs up from calling his mother to come pick him up he’s mildly surprised that she didn’t just somehow astral project herself into the office right then and there. Expecting to be taken home to rest, Eddie is instead taken to the Derry Home Hospital. He shouldn’t be shocked because this is his mother after all, but he somehow is anyway.

The usual motions are gone through, his history (again), symptoms, blood is drawn and tests done. Eddie’s a pro at this now having been through all of this again and again throughout his young life. Everything always comes back normal so he’s not worried until something does come back out of the ordinary. Of course this sends his mother into a screaming panic and then a near nuclear meltdown when the doctor calmly explains that the slightly elevated number on his test results could be connected to cancer. Even with the reassurance that it most likely isn’t cancer, Eddie is a bit scared because of his father.

More extensive tests are done and Eddie is sent home to wait for the results. When he does arrive home he’s not at all surprised to learn that his mother has already informed the school he won’t be in the rest of the week and is not to set foot out the front door. This is the first time that Eddie is off-limits to Richie as his boyfriend.

Naturally, that lasts five minutes before Richie is sneaking in through Eddie’s window again that night. The two stay up reading comics and quietly giggling together until Sonia decides to check in on her ‘dying son’. The squeaky floorboard in the hallway saves them by sounding the alarm, giving Richie barely enough time to dive under the bed for cover. They’re lucky this time, but they have to admit that they need to be a bit more careful especially when his mom is this hyper-vigilant. Much to both their disappointment Richie doesn’t try to sneak in again. Instead, he comes by after school and tries to charm his way in only to have Sonia slam the front door in his face. Rude.

The test results are in and to everyone’s relief they all come back absolutely normal. Eddie has some kind of bug that he has been fighting off, nothing to worry about. His mother is somehow not totally convinced and tries to get the doctors to rerun all the tests. Failing trying to convince them of that, she decides to keep a far more restricted schedule for Eddie and what he’s allowed to do. Of course this makes Eddie feel more and more like a prisoner. The resentment inside him grows thicker with more thorns.

The fevers come and go over the course of the winter months. For the most part they’re not too bad for Eddie to manage and he is able to hide them from his mom until another phone call from the nurse's office in late January sends him right back to the hospital. Once again the tests are run and nothing out of the ordinary except Eddie’s immune system fighting off some kind of unknown bug is the result.

Eddie tries to stay positive about it but he can’t help but be uneasy about how these fevers are getting more frequent. He legitimately has the science from his doctors to back up that he is fine, but in his gut he knows something is definitely not fine, but what? Richie also starts to really become worried. Eddie can’t hide these fevers from Richie and while he tries to pass it off as no big deal he can tell Richie is stressing about him.

Which is exactly what Richie is doing now as they gather at Derry High at the ass crack of dawn on a Saturday morning in early April.

The Penobscot county track competition is being held several hours outside of Derry. For the first time in years, Derry High has qualified for the competition. It’s surprising for Eddie for several reasons because being sick off and on for almost a year now hasn’t really affected his high school track and field career. Another reason is that the competition decidedly falls on the same weekend that his mother planned a weekend vacation with his aunts to visit Portland. She still doesn’t know about Eddie running track, which the Losers all agree, that in and of itself is a miracle because shit like that is bound to get out somehow.

When Eddie made the team Richie jokingly told him that he prayed to a small turtle he saw down by the banks of the Kenduskeag that Eddie’s mom wouldn’t find out. Guess it worked because Eddie has been in the clear for years now.

Sonia thinks Eddie is going to a science fair with Ben and Richie this weekend, not running in a track competition that could potentially help them qualify for the state-wide championships.

Richie lets out another jaw cracking yawn followed by a long sip from his four-shot caramel latte. He offers Eddie a sip but Eddie refuses because too much caffeine makes him too uncomfortable and jittery. He wouldn’t be surprised if Richie’s bloodstream is half caffeine by now.

“That better be your only one for the day,” Eddie comments, narrowing his eyes at Richie.

Richie rolls his tired half-lidded eyes at him. “Yes, _mom_. I’ll switch to decaf once I get my full ten shots in.”

“Ugh, you fucker,” Eddie tries to say disgustedly but he can’t quite keep the amusement out of his voice.

Richie leans in and steals a quick kiss on his cheek. Eddie smiles, blushing slightly. He can’t help blushing every time Richie kisses him; it still feels like a dream come true even after nearly a year and a half of dating.

The two are huddled together near the entrance of the school waiting for the other track team members to arrive. Eddie insisted they get there early in case anything happened, but the only thing it did was make them the first ones there. Richie complained that he couldn’t be seen as a keener as it would ruin his reputation. To which Eddie snorts and asks Richie to regale him about this imagined reputation of his.

Eddie and Ben will travel with the rest of the team to the competition and Richie and Beverly will follow behind in Mr Tozier’s car. Richie’s never missed a track meet of Eddie’s and isn’t about to start now, even if it does mean standing outside school at 6:30 AM on a Saturday. The world is still and quiet, giving the illusion that the two boys are the only ones to exist within it.

Eddie scratches at his nose, huddling closer to Richie for comfort. Despite only wearing his Derry High hoodie and the chill in the air he’s not feeling cold. Instead he’s feeling flushed and a bit off, more run-down than usual. The last thing he wants is to have a fever during this competition so he took extra vitamins this morning to help give his immune system a helping hand.

Richie throws an arm around Eddie, pulling him in close. Kissing the top of his head Richie can’t help but look at his boyfriend in concern. “Feeling okay, babe?”

“Yeah, tired.” Eddie tries to brush it off as being up early.

Richie doesn’t buy it. “Y’know you don’t have to go. Everyone would understand if you didn’t.”

“Drop it, Rich,” Eddie warns. He knows Richie means well and it comes from a place of love, but he gets enough of this shit from his mom. Things like this only raise his hackles in defence. Everyone needs to chill the fuck out and let him be.

“Eds, you really aren’t looking that great.” Richie begins to bring his hand up to feel Eddie’s forehead.

Eddie wrenches himself out from underneath Richie’s arm, knocking his hand away, which almost makes Richie drop his latte on the ground. “I said fucking drop it!” He bites out, really trying to drive the point home.

“Okay, okay,” Richie backs down, looking annoyed. “Sorry I fucking asked.”

Eddie hates that he feels guilty now, all Richie is doing is caring about him. Pacing around a bit to shake away the anger for having fucked up health and lashing out at Richie, Eddie begins to feel dizzy. This is new; he’s never felt this way with his fevers before. His first instinct is to go to Richie for comfort, but he doesn’t, opting rather to try and shake this sensation off himself. 

A few minutes later after trying to decompress, he looks over his shoulder at Richie. Eddie studies his lanky, tall as fuck boyfriend with his mess of dark curls that are barely long enough to pull back into a small ponytail. Richie’s now almost 6’2” and compared to his 5’7” Eddie feels like he sometimes needs a ladder just to reach his lips. His heart softens as he watches Richie fidget with Pickle Rick and other various buttons and pins stuck haphazardly on his worn bomber style jacket. Eddie smiles to himself as he watches. The only way to get Richie to completely stop fidgeting or bounce around is Eddie. He grounds Richie in a way nothing or no one else can.

Large magnified brown eyes look up, catching his. “Whatcha staring at?” Richie smirks coyly.

“I dunno, some dumbass who could still be asleep but is instead out here with his boyfriend.”

“Awwww, Eds that’s me! I’m a dumbass!” Richie lights up pointing at himself.

Laughing at Richie’s adorkableness, Eddie moves back over to lean against Richie. It’s as much as a silent apology as comfort for Eddie. “Hey, gimme a sip of that,” Eddie demands, reaching for the latte in Richie’s hand. Maybe a hit of caffeine will help clear the odd fuzzy sensations in his head.

“Sure thing,” Richie says a bit surprised, handing his cup over. Eddie’s not usually one for Richie’s choice of beverages in the coffee department or sharing drinks in general. 

Eddie takes the lid off the cup and presses his lips to the rim taking a sip of the overly sugary caffeinated beverage.

“Careful, I spit in that,” Richie says smugly.

Nearly spitting out the drink Eddie tries not to choke as he swallows. “Fuck you.” He scowls as he puts the lid back on and hands the drink back with a sharp hand gesture to a very amused Richie.

Soon Ben and Bev arrive together, which surprises neither of them since they started dating a few months ago. Like Richie and Eddie, it was only a matter of time before they decided to take the leap into the more than just friends category. Everyone was thrilled that they are an item now, but Eddie feels a bit of resentment towards them because they can be more open and accepted by their relationship. It isn’t fair by any means, but at least Eddie has hope that he and Richie can be a lot freer to be out and together once they leave for college. Where that will end up being is yet to be decided, but they do know they’re going together no matter what.

“Morning, love birds!” Bev says way too cheerfully for this time of morning.

“Dial it down there, Cheer Bear, it’s too early to have a personality,” Richie grumbles.

“Man who spit in your coffee this morning?” Ben chuckles, dumping his duffle bag with his track kit on the pavement next to Eddie’s. Like Richie, Ben has grown like a weed and is now a six-foot-tall lean mean running machine. Joining track has done wonders for Ben, not only physically with his weight loss but also like Eddie in opening up a whole new part of himself he never thought possible.

“He did, apparently,” Eddie huffs in amusement.

“He’s just upset because I look prettier than him at this time of day,” Bev states, wrapping her coat tighter around herself.

“You’re always the prettiest, Bev,” Ben compliments, giving her a kiss on the cheek.

Eddie smiles while Richie makes gross gagging noises. “Eeeew, hetero love, it buuuuurns usssss!”

“Fuck you, Trashmouth,” Bev laughs. She pulls Ben in for a full kiss on the lips that only makes Richie react more dramatically with added effects.

Despite the light and fun atmosphere between them all, Eddie can’t fully get into it. He’s feeling too drained, everything has been turned down to a low static volume. All he does is smile and laugh when needed but other than that all real social interactions are too much at the moment. Leaning against Richie’s shoulder Eddie stares blankly across the schoolyard thinking of nothing.

His other teammates start arriving along with the assistant coach, Ms Kohten. He waves and makes small talk with them as they walk by. They’re not close like he is with Ben, but he likes them well enough, or enough to compete on the track team with.

Coach Caits arrives a few minutes later, her husband dropping her off. Their dog Xena is happily panting away in the back seat of their car. She kisses the large tan pit bull mix’s head goodbye and heads over to the scattered group of the barely awake track team.

Ben and Eddie head over to check in with her and the rest of the team leaving Bev and Richie to bicker over what to listen to on their drive.

The last team member arrives and Coach Caits gives them the signal to board the bus. Both Eddie and Ben come over to grab their bags and say goodbye. As Eddie bends over a sharp wave of dizziness overcomes him and he nearly falls to his hands and knees. Gritting his teeth he wills himself to pick up his bag and act normal. He hopes to hell Richie and the others didn’t notice him waver like that. Slinging his bag over his shoulder he turns to say goodbye to Richie. The sad and worried look he’s giving him means that Eddie may not have been able to totally hide it.

“It’s less than a two-hour drive, doofus,” Eddie tries to put on a cheerful air. “Don’t look so sad.”

“My heart bleeds every moment we’re apart, Eds. I lose so much of myself without you that I am simply but a husk of a human being until you’re back in my arms.”

Gagging noises come from behind Eddie. “Eeeeew, gay love, so fucking gross!” Bev mocks good heartedly, laughing. Ben’s next to her with a big grin on his face

“Hey, Marsh, it’s called poetry!” Richie sticks his tongue out at her.

“It’s definitely something,” she says while grabbing Ben’s arm and leading him off a little ways from them. They won’t have a chance to see each other until the first break of the competition.

Eddie focuses back on Richie, smiling. “Try not to bleed out too much in your dad’s car. I think he’d prefer you not to ruin the interior.”

“I’ll risk it,” Richie says with a crooked smile. It doesn’t quite meet his eyes though; he’s still clearly concerned about Eddie. “Listen, Eddie, you really—“

“I gotta go, Rich,” Eddie says with a warning edge to his voice. “Wish me luck, okay?”

Richie sighs, shoulders slumping. Eddie knows how much Richie is holding back right now. Best to just get on that bus before that leash on Richie’s thoughts snap and words begin tumbling out of his mouth without a filter.

Glancing around quickly to make sure there’s no one nearby except for Bev and Ben, Richie leans in pressing his lips to Eddie’s. The feeling of Richie’s lips on his never fails to make his heart burst into a million butterflies, but this time there’s something Eddie isn’t expecting, at least not right at this moment. A flare of hunger deep within him reaches up to coil all-around Eddie. It’s luxuriously warm and intensely greedy all at once. As Richie begins to pull away Eddie steps forward, pressing his lips back harder against Richie’s.

“Eds,” Richie whispers against his lips. “Eds, you gotta go.”

“Mmm?” Eddie hums. Everything feels a bit fuzzy but now in a good way.

“Eddie!” Ben calls to him and that seems to break the spell pulling him back.

Oh, right, track competition. Eddie adjusts his bag on his shoulder and shrugs, flushing slightly. “Gotta go.”

“Good luck, Spagheddie. Love you,” Richie says quietly enough so no one will overhear.

“Love you, too. See you later.” Eddie begins walking backwards, not able to take his eyes off of his boyfriend. He’d like nothing more than to stay behind and be with and held by Richie right now. The worried and almost sad look Richie gives Eddie as he turns to board the bus makes his heart ache.

Eddie locates Ben near the back of the bus and throws his bag up on the luggage rails above their seats. Settling down beside his friend Eddie is a bit disconcerted at how much his body enjoys the relief of sitting down.

Ben’s reading a text and although Eddie doesn’t deliberately look over to read it he does catch the words _kinda sick_ and _an eye on_ in the chat bubble before he focuses his attention away. It’s almost certainly from Richie, how could it not be? Eddie honestly can’t blame Richie for asking Ben to keep an eye on him as much as he hates it. All Richie is doing is caring for Eddie and loving him. At least it’s not his mom’s level where he’d most definitely be halfway en route to the hospital right now.

Soon Coach Caits is at the front of the bus giving a brief outline of the day’s events. Derry High’s first heat takes place at 10 AM, so everyone is to take advantage of the long bus ride to rest up and even get some more sleep if they want. Eddie agrees wholeheartedly with that statement as his body relaxes and his mind drifts. Pulling up his hood around his face he’s barely aware of the bus pulling out of the school parking lot.

“Did you hear anything back yet?” Ben asks, his voice sounding faint and far away.

Blinking slowly, Eddie has to struggle to understand Ben’s question. “Hear back?”

“From any of the schools?”

Oh! Schools, of course. The Losers have been thinking about and preparing their applications to different colleges and universities since last school year. The last of their applications to various programs and schools were sent in January and it has been a waiting game ever since. A couple of them have heard back from some schools, but they were a big nope. But that’s okay because Eddie thinks everyone is waiting to hear what everyone else has been accepted to before making any solid decisions. Losers stick together and the need to still be close to each other after high school is a definite driving factor behind their final choices.

“No, nothing yet, but probably soon.” Eddie shrugs looking at Ben who seems a bit nervous about the whole situation. Eddie can’t blame him as he’s in the same boat with Richie. They’ve been applying to the same schools or schools that are close enough to each other that they could live together while studying. Eddie knows Richie will be accepted into an amazing school, there’s no way he won’t be with a mind like that, but it has Eddie super nervous that he won’t get accepted into anything. He’s not a brainiac like Richie. While Eddie may have the superior manners and focus that Richie usually lacks, he doesn’t have the grades that Richie does.

They had a serious discussion about schools together back in September where Eddie pressed Richie about his dream school. Of course Richie only tells him it will be wherever Eddie is, which is super sweet and he knows Richie does mean it, but he wants Richie to flourish and be truly happy.

After a threat to break up with him, Richie finally relents and admits that he’s always been low key interested in NYU and the science and theatre programs they offer. So after a lot of research, filling out applications, sleepless nights, and reassurance from Richie that Eddie will totally get into a school like NYU, they apply together. And they’ve been waiting ever since.

“It’ll be okay,” Ben reassures, but Eddie’s not entirely sure to whom.

“Yeah,” Eddie sighs, settling farther into his seat. Bus seats in general aren’t that comfy, but to Eddie this one is heaven.

He dozes off and on for a while before out of nowhere his brain is pulling a Richie where the words are out of his mouth before he has time to actually think about them. “Are you planning on having Bev bond with you?”

“Oh!” Ben blushes and looks away from Eddie but he’s smiling. “Yeah, I think I am or will. I mean we haven’t really talked about it in detail but I-I think so.”

“Good,” Eddie says a bit sleepily. “You two deserve it.”

“Thanks, Eddie,” Ben says with genuine warmth. “You do as well.”

A cold chill crawls into Eddie’s stomach at the words. “I’m a beta so there’s no way Richie can do that to me.” He tries to keep the bitterness out of his voice but fails.

Ben looks a bit awkward as if he’s said something he shouldn’t have. “I only meant you guys deserve to be happy.”

And Eddie wholeheartedly agrees. They do deserve to be happy with each other and for as long as they can be. Eddie tries to shove those melancholy thoughts away. The thought of Richie eventually ending up with someone else practically rips Eddie to shreds every time he thinks about it. Now that Richie is eighteen he can legally go off his blocker medication or at least he can when they graduate, but he has already said many times he won’t or at least not now. There are still a good number of years for them to be together before Richie will absolutely need to be taken off his medication.

“Sorry, Ben. I know that’s what you meant,” Eddie says softly. He gives Ben a small smile. “I’m just fucking tired.” As if on cue Eddie lets out a huge yawn almost as jaw cracking loud as one of Richie’s.

“It’s okay, Eddie, I get it,” Ben says. “D’you want to watch anything?” He holds up his phone with Netflix open on the screen.

“Nah, don’t feel like it. I think I’ll sleep.”

“Cool. Just don’t go calling out Richie’s name or anything,” Ben teases.

Eddie scowls mockingly and playfully punches Ben in the arm. “Gross. I would never!”

Laughing, Ben gently punches Eddie back on the shoulder. “I hope so for my sake. I’m not sitting next to you while you dream and drool all over your face about your guy.”

A few more playful lighthearted punches are exchanged before the two call a truce. Eddie settles back fully into his seat, shutting his eyes. Soon his body drags him under and he’s asleep.

“Eddie.”

His name is faint and muffled sounding as if it’s being called from underwater.

“Eddie.”

A light touch and then a gentle shake on the shoulder. “Eddie, we’re here.” Ben’s voice suddenly becomes clearer and sharper as his brain returns to consciousness.

Blearily Eddie looks around and notices his teammates all noisily getting up and grabbing their bags from atop the luggage rails. Yawning he straightens up, wincing a little bit at the stiffness in his neck from sleeping at an awkward angle. He regrets not bringing a travel pillow with him.

“Thanks, Ben,” Eddie yawns, getting up from his seat. Grabbing his bag and exiting the bus, the last cobwebs of sleep blow away in the fresh spring air, leaving Eddie feeling a lot better. Good. Maybe he was only tired and needed some more rest. Getting up so early when you’re not used to it fucks with a person.

The team checks in and they all get their numbers and name tags to wear. They’re then directed to the waiting area where they can store their stuff and wait and wander around a bit between heats. They still weren’t set to run their first one for at least another hour.

Eddie gawks a bit at the number of teens around from all the different schools in the county. It’s amazing and fun to see fresh competition and from such diverse schools. A team walks by and he notices one girl wearing a rainbow flag headband. A small part of him wishes he had the courage to do that. One day, he promises himself. Not the headband, but the general being out and proud of it all.

His phone buzzes with a new message. Richie and Bev have made it there safely and are currently navigating the crowds of proud and eager families for a spot on the outdoor bleachers.

Eddie: _remember your sunscreen_

Richie: _yes MOM :P_

Yes, it is still early spring and the weather is not that hot, but Richie’s pale ass skin always seems to throw down the gauntlet with the sun to do battle and always comes out on the losing end. Richie has a tendency to forget to put on sunscreen no matter what time of year, so Eddie has to remind him unless he wants to end up looking like a cooked lobster and feeling like he’s been rubbed raw with sandpaper. Just a boyfriend looking out for his boyfriend.

They text each other until it’s time for the team to do some stretching and warm-ups. The stretching feels good after the long bus ride and Eddie is grateful for it. But the warm-ups are different. Eddie already feels sluggish and drained after the short drills. Napping on the bus didn’t seem to help as much as he thought it did. Trying not to get worked up enough to trigger an asthma attack, Eddie tries to stay as removed as possible drinking lots of water and drinks with electrolytes.

Coach Caits is too busy managing everyone to fully realize how Eddie is doing but does pause after one drill to ask him if he’s okay.

“I’m fine, thanks,” Eddie lies.

“Okay, Eddie, but if you’re not I need you to tell me.” She gives him a supportive smile and it helps ease his mood. He really doesn’t want to let his team down. After all he’s one of the main reasons that they’re here. Eddie’s times combined with the new members on the team helped push them well past the minimum requirements to compete for the county championship.

Finally the Derry High’s first heat is called and the team gathers on the field. It’s huge, much larger than the track at school, which suffers from the typical public education monetary upkeep. There are rows and rows of bleachers filled with the eager family and friends of participants ready to cheer on their loved ones. Eddie can’t help but feel a little overwhelmed but also thrilled at the scope of it. This is definitely bigger than anything he’s ever done in his life. 

Eddie, Ben and another one of his teammates are up first since they all had the best seed times out of their team. The rest of the team takes turns based on their seed times compared with members of other teams.

As Eddie and Ben walk onto the track to take their position for the 100 metre the crowd cheers, the friends and family of the runners being the loudest of course. They both begin to scan the crowd for Bev and Richie but they’re soon spotted because of the large poster board banner they’re enthusiastically holding up. _GOOD LUCK, SPAGHEDDIE AND BEN_ is written out in large block letters. Hearts and other doodles are all over the board. Eddie’s too far away to make it out clearly but he thinks he sees cutouts of characters like Sonic the Hedgehog and the Flash glued to the board. It’s tacky as hell but perfect.

“Oh my fucking god,” Eddie groans. Richie’s practically bouncing into the sky with excitement as he screams Eddie’s name. Bev is almost as bad as she jumps up and down and erratically waves around a small pom-pom in the hand she’s not holding the sign with.

“Did you know about this?” Ben asks Eddie, grinning widely.

The infectious happy energy of his boyfriend and friend make Eddie grin back and wave towards the stands. Richie gives a mocking swoon as if he’s about to faint because Eddie noticed him. “Nope.”

The warning signal sounds and Ben and Eddie get into position. They wish each other good luck, both genuinely rooting for the other even though Eddie has been able to outrun everyone on the team since he first joined. As they wait for the signal Eddie’s mind begins to narrow down on the track in front of him, blocking out everything else. 

The shot blast sounds and they’re off. Eddie’s mind empties into that blissful feeling of flying as his feet soar over the track. But something is different as if weighing him down, clipping his wings. Eddie’s finding it hard to breathe evenly with every stride he takes.

_Please not now, not now. Please!_

Panic begins to seep inside him causing him to falter. A blur out of the corner of his eye catches him off guard as another competitor catches up to him.

_No, I can’t let them down like this._

Despite his body protesting Eddie pushes hard at the last second crossing the finish line. In less than fourteen seconds the race is over.

He slows, letting his body drag him back down to earth. The usual euphoric feeling he has after a race isn’t there, only panic. A wave of dizziness overcomes Eddie and he stumbles, but Ben is beside him to catch him holding him up by the shoulders.

“Are you okay?” Ben asks, still breathless from the race.

“Yeah! Just tripped is all,” Eddie pants, desperately trying to catch hold of his breath. Shit where is his inhaler?

“Okay, if you’re sure,” Ben says unconvinced. The two walk back to the starting area where the next members of their team wait to take their places on the track.

“Good job, guys!” Coach Caits congratulates, beaming at them. “Very well done. And congratulations Eddie on the first place victory!”

Eddie looks at her a bit dumbfounded. He hadn’t even realized that he won. “Oh, thanks!”

His coach comes over to him and asks him in a quieter tone if he is okay.

“Yeah, just tripped. I’m fine,” Eddie once again lies. He hates that he has to do it especially to his coach who has been nothing but supportive and kind to him over the last few years. The answer seems to placate her and she gives him another congratulation before turning her attention back to the next 100 metre race.

Grabbing his bottle of water he takes a large gulp before sitting down on the bench. He reaches for his towel, forgetting that he wrapped his phone inside it for safekeeping. It falls on the ground with a dull thud.

There are several text messages from Richie starting out with big congratulations, heart eye emojis, gifs and pictures. Then the ones he knew would follow.

_eddie r u ok?_

_eds?_

_fuck. text me as soon as u fucking get this plz!!!!!!_

He knows Richie is just worried but he cannot help but feel a little bubble of anger at him for how much he sounds like his mom. Well, if his mom swore and were allergic to the basic rules of grammar.

Eddie: _I’m fine I just tripped._

Richie: _u sure? :(_

Eddie: _Yes!_

Richie: _sure sure?_

Eddie: _fuck Richie drop it. I tripped! Ask Ben!!!_

No immediate reply is sent which means Richie is doing just that. Eddie watches as Ben types out a response on his phone.

“Don’t worry, Eddie,” Ben says amused.

“Ugh. Sorry.” Taking another few gulps of water Eddie feels better, the dizziness is no longer there and his breathing is back to normal.

His phone vibrates.

Richie: _so checked with doc haystack and confirmed ur story so i’m sorry to say that ur final diagnosis is being too cute of a bf_

Eddie could smack then kiss him.

Eddie: _I’m fucking thrilled_

Richie: _congrats again eds_

Eddie: _Thanks. Thanks for the cheerleading and the sign._

Richie: _ur welcome! It was a combined loser effort. Bev and me are gonna start our own squad. I requested to wear an extra short skirt._

Eddie: _not too short. I don’t want ppl ogling my bf too much_

Richie: _is my Spagheddie jealous? Awwwww babe. When’s ur break? I want to kiss my bf’s face a lot_

Blushing slightly Eddie wants nothing more than that.

Eddie: _after the 400m then you can kiss me_

Richie: _uuugh so long. Ok I’ll sit here yearning._

Eddie: _dumbass_

Richie: _ur dumbass. ;) btw your ass looks amazing in those shorts_

Now Eddie is full-on blushing. It’s definitely not the first time that Richie has commented on Eddie’s running attire, especially the shorts. Using his towel he wipes at his face as if he’s still hot from the run.

Eddie: _omg rich_

A flurry of peach and eye stare emoji’s follow, which cause Eddie to laugh. Why is his boyfriend so infuriating and amazing at the same time?

With the 100 metre heats over the team reconvenes at their waiting area to rest and prepare for the next heat, the 400 metre. This has always been one of Eddie’s favourites to run.

When the team is called to come back to the field Eddie gets up and nearly throws up. The wave of nausea and dizziness that assails his body blindsides him. Part of him wants to begin to cry for feeling this way. Why has he been getting sick so often the past year? Why now? Why him?

“Eddie?” Ben’s turned around looking at him with concern.

That concern on his friends face makes up Eddie’s mind. Fuck it, he’s going to run this fucking race if it kills him. “I’m okay!” Eddie reassures for the millionth time today. Joining Ben they go with the rest of the team to the field.

Thankfully Eddie isn’t in the first race so he takes advantage by sitting on the bench sipping a sports drink hoping that will settle his stomach. He and Richie text while he waits and when he’s called his phone blows up with more good luck messages and gifs.

A little wobbly but feeling better after the sports drink, Eddie takes his position but not before waving to Richie and Bev in the crowd. Ben isn’t in this heat with him so all the cheering from the Losers squad is for him, his heart glows with happiness.

The warning signal sounds and he focuses ahead, ready to leave the competition in the dust. The gunshot sound goes off and Eddie begins to fly again. His feet are gliding over the track fluid and free.

As Eddie rounds the first corner he realizes his feet are now lifting off the solid surface of the track. That’s never happened before. He feels lighter than ever, his body weighs next to nothing, and he’s soaring. This sensation is incredible. Blurs of colour bracket him on all sides as he runs on the air. Heat builds in his body until there’s no question that he must be on fire. Maybe he’s going so fast now that he’s turned into an actual comet. A human comet, awesome!

The blur of colours around him begins to tilt and swirl confusing Eddie. They shouldn’t be looking like this. Now his feet are turning to lead and he’s being pulled down from the sky against his will. The heat inside him begins to build more and more becoming almost painful. This isn’t right, something is very wrong.

The colours turn darker as Eddie tries to pick up his feet to move forward. He can’t let his team down. He can’t let himself down. He can’t let Richie down.

_Don’t take this away from me!_ _Richie where are you?_ He thinks with such fierce desperation that it echoes throughout his mind.

Now the colours blink out and blackness sweeps in to envelop every sense Eddie has as he falls unconscious to the ground.


	9. Richie, 18 years old

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With the hope of the Losers all being together soon to conquer this together, the looming dread of Sonia Kaspbraks’ arrival hangs like a heavy dark storm cloud about to burst over them. If the shit didn’t hit the fan earlier it certainly will when she arrives from her little vacation in Portland. Richie’s skin is already prickling with nerves at her impending arrival; he doesn’t want her near Eddie. She doesn’t understand Eddie the way he does and she never will. All she’s doing is slowly smothering the bright light that is Eddie Kaspbrak until it goes out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter warnings: Sonia Kaspbrak, child abuse, hospitals, illness

The waiting room of the paediatric wing of the hospital Richie sits in is the usual standard one. Colours that barely qualify as colours adorn the walls and décor; harsh too bright lighting only helps add to the anxiety, and uncomfortable furniture against the walls completes the aesthetic. Richie sits in one of the hard chairs, his coffee sitting on the side table untouched. He blinks, the unforgiving fluorescent lights above sting his exhausted eyes. Nothing would make him happier than to shut them and fall asleep, then wake up to this all being a really, really bad dream. But it’s not; the reality is that he’s here in the hospital waiting on some kind of news about Eddie.

His Eddie.

The moment Eddie collapsed on the track is one Richie will never forget until the day he dies. His heart ceases to function and all the air is sucker-punched out of his lungs as he watches Eddie lying there unmoving. Bev holds onto him tightly for support, shaking, tears on her face as the crowd goes deathly silent realizing it isn’t just an accident of a boy tripping and falling. Ben and the rest of the team races out onto the field to see if Eddie is okay. Richie’s mind screams out Eddie over and over and over, then a choked and scared “EDDIE!” out loud, causing the people surrounding him to turn and look.

Richie drops the sign, pushing through the crowd on the bleachers, Bev holding on to his arm, trailing close behind. He has to get to Eddie. He has to see if he’s okay if he’s… but he can’t even think the words because if he does he’ll shatter into a billion pieces never to be put back together again.

They manage to get on the field, telling various teachers and event volunteers that Bev is Eddie’s sister to give them easier access. By the time they make it over to Eddie, he’s still unconscious, surrounded by the medical staff that is on call for the event in case of emergency. This is definitely an emergency.

“Eddie,” Richie croaks as he gets as close to him as he can without interrupting the medical staff’s attention. Sirens can be heard distantly, obviously racing to the scene to get Eddie to a hospital. “Is he breathing?” Richie asks no one in particular. His gut twists in tighter knots waiting for anyone to answer.

An older woman with dark skin wearing a white vest with big red letters that read “ _FIRST AID''_ on it half turns to him, “yes, he’s breathing.” Then turns her focus back to Eddie.

Richie’s heart gives a stuttered thump as it restarts, relief that Eddie is breathing easing some of his fears.

“It’ll be okay, Richie,” Bev repeats over and over, holding on to him tightly for support just as much for her as Richie. Ben stands on his other side holding his hand tightly, tears in his eyes.

The paramedics arrive with their medical equipment, but Eddie’s still not conscious. Richie tells them that he wasn’t feeling well this morning, but anything more than that is a mystery. They lift Eddie onto a gurney as if he weighs no more than a feather, loading him into the ambulance. They’re given the name of the hospital and before Richie can even think of it Bev has the route to it open on her phone.

Ben runs to collect Eddie’s things from the team’s waiting area, returning quickly to drive since Richie is clearly in no shape to do so. They all pile into Mr Tozier’s car and arrive at the hospital about twenty minutes later where they wait for any news on Eddie in the ER.

Coach Caits joins them soon after looking pale and drawn, her worst nightmare about one of her students come true. A nurse comes to speak with her privately, obviously asking for emergency contact information and any other information that can be of help. Richie watches as a doctor soon joins the conversation. Coach Caits hands over Eddie’s fanny pack with his inhaler and other items that Ben retrieved before leaving.

With the doctor and nurses done for now, Coach Caits comes over informing them that Eddie regained consciousness in the ambulance before he arrived at the ER and is currently being looked over by the doctors. That’s all the information they can give them at the moment since none of them is family.

Family. Richie almost jumps up from his seat telling her that he’s more family than anyone to Eddie, same with Bev and Ben, but manages to hold back. The last thing he needs is to get his ass thrown out by security.

So they sit and wait.

And that’s what they’ve been doing for hours. The only update they receive is that Eddie has been admitted to the hospital for treatment and is now in the paediatric ward, where they are currently camped out in.

The image of Eddie, lying there lifeless on the track so pale and sick looking, will not leave Richie’s mind. No matter how much he tries it haunts him, making him feel nauseous. Shoving his glasses up on his head he rubs at his tired eyes, trying to will the tears he wants to shed back.

Bev sits beside him; head on his shoulder and Ben on her other side holding her hand. They’ve texted and called Bill, Mike, and Stan, all of them leaving work or prior commitments early to come and be there for Eddie. Richie can’t do this without them, he feels like he’ll break at any moment and the glue currently holding him together is the Losers.

Coach Caits left a while ago to go deal with the fallout of the situation and join the assistant coach and the rest of the team left at the event.

With the hope of the Losers all being together soon to conquer this together, the looming dread of Sonia Kaspbraks’ arrival hangs like a heavy dark storm cloud about to burst over them. If the shit didn’t hit the fan earlier it certainly will when she arrives from her little vacation in Portland. Richie’s skin is already prickling with nerves at her impending arrival; he doesn’t want her near Eddie. She doesn’t understand Eddie the way he does and she never will. All she’s doing is slowly smothering the bright light that is Eddie Kaspbrak until it goes out.

Richie’s phone vibrates with a new message from his mom asking if there’s been any news. When he called his dad saying he wouldn’t be able to return the car tonight as promised he nearly broke down in hysterics. His dad told him not to worry about it, that Eddie is more important, and even offered to come out there with his mom for moral support since they’ve been quite fond of Eddie since he and Richie became friends as small children. Richie couldn’t have loved them more at this moment, feeling incredibly lucky to have his mom and dad for support, but also broken-hearted that this is the relationship Eddie should have with his mom. He tells them not to come; he’ll be okay but promises to update them as soon as he finds out anything.

Sighing, Richie hangs his head between his shoulders. Everything really fucking sucks today.

A doctor comes into the room and the three look up expectantly only to be let down as they come over to talk to another couple sitting at the other end of the room. Obviously it’s good news because the smiling couple leaves with the doctor and does not return. Richie and the others are now alone.

The waiting game continues.

Not too long after that, they hear the all too familiar halting speech of Bill down the hallway. “I th-think it’s d-down this w-w-way.”

Stan walks by the doorway first, nearly missing that this is the waiting room, stopping so abruptly that Bill and Mike almost collide into him and each other. “Here they are!” Stan announces, entering the room and walking right up to Richie.

Getting up Richie faces Stan and they envelop each other into a tight hug. Richie buries his face into Stan’s neck, trying to hide the tears pricking at his eyes. Stan holds him long and hard, understanding that Richie needs the extra support right now. When they part Richie tries to avoid Stan’s questioning worried gaze but fails. He sniffles, giving him a weak half-smile.

“What the fuck are you doing here, Stan the Man? Come to get a sense of humour put in you?”

“Yeah, hear they got the best ones in, totally superior to the shitty one you got.”

“Oof, direct hit!” Richie groans placing his hand over his heart. Stan always has the magic touch to make Richie feel better. “Thanks, man,” Richie says quietly.

“Anytime,” Stan replies, stepping aside to let Bill and Mike come in and give him hugs. Richie once again has to hide his tears as Bill wraps his arms around him followed by Mike. He knows they’re all worried about Eddie, but the love Richie feels right now gives him much needed strength.

The six Losers settle in to wait for any news that they can get, which isn’t much since none of them is family. It’s frustrating as hell knowing that they’re not in the loop and probably won’t be even when Mrs Kaspbrak arrives. She’s never been a huge fan of them except maybe Bill and Stan and even then it’s more of a mild tolerance.

Dinnertime comes and several of the Losers go to the vending machine down the hall to bring back snacks and drinks. Richie refuses to leave the waiting room and no one argues. They know Richie won’t leave until he gets news and talks to Eddie. Everyone is prepared to camp out overnight and get a shitty sleep in the best, most uncomfortable chairs the hospital has to offer.

Richie’s surprised to realize how hungry he is after he rips open a bag of Doritos and downs them in 0.005 seconds flat. Picking out another bag from the pile of snacks he eats those in record time.

“I can go get you a sandwich, dude,” Mike chuckles, as he watches Richie tip the bag of chips upside down over his mouth, practically unhinging his jaw to get the very last of the crumbs.

“Mmmf?” Richie half grunts as he chews his mouthful of chips. Powdered Dorito flavouring sticks to the corners of his mouth and he darts his tongue out like a lizard to lick up the last tasty fake orange goodness.

“Actually yeah, I can go for a sandwich as well,” Bev announces getting out of her seat. “Who wants to come with me to the caf?”

Naturally Ben is the first to volunteer. Mike volunteers as well and Ben takes requests for sandwiches and anything else.

The three leave the waiting room promising to come back soon. Only soon proves to be about thirty seconds later when Mike comes rushing back into the room, followed closely by Bev and Ben, a look of panic plastered on all their faces.

“Where’s the fire?” Richie asks amused, but immediately a cold chill runs down his spine and his skin begins to crawl as a shrill voice is heard down the hallway.

“EDDIE! EDDIE, WHERE ARE YOU?”

“Oh, fuck,” Bill exclaims, his eyes going wide.

“Here we go,” Stan sighs with resignation.

Richie can’t react; he’s glued to his chair as Sonia Kaspbrak’s worried nasally voice carries down the whole ward. Fuck he wishes he could get out of his seat and scream at her to shut the fuck up, let Eddie rest.

“EDDIE-BEAR, MOMMY IS HERE!”

Closer now, she must be a few rooms down from them near the nurse’s station. An unfamiliar voice of one of the nurses on call tries to tell her to calm down, but this only seems to set Sonia off more. “MY SON IS SICK AND MAY BE DYING! DON’T TELL ME TO BE QUIET! WHERE IS ROOM 304?”

The nurse gives her the right direction because soon the large blur of Eddie’s mother rushes by the waiting room entrance. All the Losers sit frozen to the spot as if waiting for a bomb to go off. It sorta does, as the next thing they hear is a shrill wail from Sonia as she obviously has found the right room. “OH, EDDIE-BEAR!”

Bev gets up without a word from her seat and creeps out the door. She returns a couple of minutes later.

“He’s in the first room around the corner on the left,” she says, looking at Richie.

“Thanks, Red,” Richie replies. He feels nauseous now thinking about Eddie with his mom. What was going on? What was being said? His heart rate begins to pick up as he thinks about the different scenarios that could be taking place right now. Eddie needs him, he feels it so deep in his core it’s crazy. The need to be with him now is so strong he gets up, fists clenched, ready to march down the hall and right into his room. Damn Sonia, damn the no family visiting rules.

A hand grabs his forearm pulling him back. “H-ey! Woah, R-Richie! What are y-y-you doing?” Bill asks.

Richie clenches his fist the urge to punch Bill strong and sharp inside his chest. Glaring at his best friend, Richie balls his fist up tighter. “Eddie needs me.”

“I-I know he d-does,” Bill says, sympathy clear in his eyes. “B-but you can’t. Not while sh-sh-she’s in there.”

“No, that’s exactly why I need to be there!” Richie practically growls.

Bill’s taken aback at the vehemence in Richie’s words. He gently lets go of Richie’s arm and steps back.

“Think about it, Rich,” Stan says calmly, coming up beside Bill. “If you go in there now all she’s going to do is kick you out and probably get your ass banned from seeing him. You’ll make the situation that much worse for Eddie, which is fucking shit because we know how much you love him. ”

“Fuck,” Richie hisses, anger and panic rising inside him. He doesn’t know what to do, all he knows is that he’s needed and he can’t be there. Roughly he runs his hand through his hair, pushing it back as if this will help him think. The caged sensation he’s feeling causes him to pace back and forth, trying to put some of that frustrated energy somewhere.

His heart races in time with his thoughts. _Eddie, Eddie, Eddie, Eddie…_

Stan and Bill hover near Richie, making sure he doesn’t bolt out the door. He kinda hates and loves them for that. Begrudgingly he knows they’re right; he’s not in any shape to go charging into Eddie’s room. Plus it would upset Eddie if he and Sonia got into it and that’s the last thing he needs right now.

Stopping his pacing, Richie faces the wall of the waiting room, staring blankly at a generic abstract painting of whatever that is hung in pretty much every waiting room to ever exist. His focus shifts to the reflection of himself in the glass and is mildly horrified to see how tired he looks. Being up since 4:30 AM would make anyone tired, but this is a deeper more soul aching tired. His face is pale and drawn over his sharp features, dark circles under his eyes. He looks a wreck from worry.

“I fucking hate this,” he says brokenly. The tears come, this time overflowing, steadily moving over his cheeks and dripping off his chin. Hanging his head, Richie lets out a quiet sob, moving his hands under his glasses to cover his face.

Stan is the first to hold him, followed by Bill, then Bev, Mike, and Ben. They all hold Richie in a big Losers group hug as he cries, the frustration and fear he’s been keeping inside all day now too much to contain. Richie breaks but is kept from shattering completely as the love from his friends holds him together.

They all stand like that, lending each other love and support until Richie has cried himself out. Sniffling loudly he thanks them all, now embarrassed about his breakdown because emotions, eww gross.

“Don’t be,” Ben reassures. “Losers stick together.”

“Yep, no way we’re letting you go through this alone,” Mike adds softly.

“I know you guys are worried too,” Richie says, his voice raw. “It’s just…” He trails off unable to find the right words. All the vocabulary in his brain has been replaced with one single thing: Eddie.

“I get it, Richie,” Bev says quietly, placing her hand on his arm. She glances to Ben with a small, sad smile. Of all of them he knows that Beverly would understand the most with her being an alpha and being in a relationship with one of her best friends.

They all sit down again, each resigned to their long vigil. They won’t be able to visit Eddie until the doctor gives the all-clear for visitors that aren’t family members.

Everyone sits quietly, reflecting on the situation or mindlessly checking their phones for distraction. All of a sudden a loud growl cuts through the silence causing everyone to look up.

Richie smiles a little sheepishly. “Uh, guess I’m still hungry.”

They laugh a bit to ease the tension.

“We were interrupted from our sandwich run,” Ben comments. “Mrs K was just getting off the elevator when we got there so we booked it back here.”

“A very wise choice, Haystack,” Richie says. Getting up from his chair he surprises everyone by saying, “okay sandwich time. I need to stretch my legs, who’s with me?”

They return from the cafeteria and settle back in to wait. Time ticks by and they’re all lost in their thoughts when unexpectedly raised voices are heard. At first, Richie thinks it may just be someone’s TV in his or her room but then his heart skips a beat when he can clearly make out that familiar shrill tone.

“EDDIE, _PLEASE!_ ” Anguished desperation is clear in Sonia’s voice.

All the Losers are looking up towards the door now having heard Eddie’s mom. They’re all straining to hear if that would be it or if this is just the beginning.

“ _PLEASE_ , SEE REASON! EDDIE!”

“What the fuck?” Richie bolts out of his chair and into the hallway. The Losers follow behind him, no one saying a word. Being the paediatric ward there are colourful cartoon animals and characters painted on various spots of the hallway walls. They round the corner towards Eddie’s room and stop in front of a painted scene of a large turtle in a pond with seven other baby turtles. Sobbing is heard now, but it’s not Eddie.

Eddie’s voice isn’t as raised so Richie can’t quite hear everything he’s saying over the sniffling and annoying noises Sonia is making, but he can clearly make out some things like “betrayed”, “how dare you”, “why would you do this to me?”, and “you fucking bitch.” Richie’s heart swells a bit with pride at Eddie saying that even if the circumstances are pretty grim.

Sonia lets out a wail, obviously in great distress, but from what? “EDDIE, IT WAS ALL FOR YOU! ALL TO PROTECT YOU! PLEASE UNDERSTAND!”

“Wh-at the f-fuck is sh-sh-she on about?” Bill says aloud what they’re all thinking.

But whatever it is Richie knows it’s not good, his gut telling him that something big has just been blown open. Bigger than them faking her signature to join track and let Eddie actually have some fucking fun in his life. No, this is some major skeleton in the closet that has finally come to the light. A skeleton that has lurked behind the shadows that have always made Richie dislike her even beyond the controlling ways in which she’s raised her son.

Now Sonia sounds as if she’s in real hysterics, begging Eddie to forgive her, for him to see her reasons and understand that she did what she did out of love.

Then all of a sudden Eddie’s voice cuts through her whining and sobbing like the swing of an axe hitting its target. “I HATE YOU! GET OUT!”

Everything is quiet then. Sonia is struck dumb that her son could say such a thing. So are the Losers in fact, but in a way they’re all not surprised, each of them speculating something like this would happen sooner or later. Especially Richie from what Eddie has been telling him over the past year.

A hiccupping sob from Sonia then a soft, whining plea, “Eddie, don’t say that to mommy.”

“ _GET OUT!_ ” Eddie says again even more forcefully, his voice a kaleidoscope of emotions and none of them good. It chills Richie to his bones because that’s his Eddie but also not. As if something or someone is speaking through him. Awesome and creepy don’t even seem to cover it.

Hurried footsteps are heard down the hall. Ben who is near the back of the group looks around the corner. “Shit. Guys, it’s security.”

Seconds later two hospital security guards round the corner with a couple of nurses close behind. The Losers all move back against the wall giving them space to move by. Security enters Eddie’s room and Sonia begins to wail again only this time to the guards telling them that her son is not in his right mind and someone please help him.

One of the nurses, a small man with dark curly hair who is looking frazzled turns to them all. “You can’t be here right now. Please go to the waiting room.” As they turn to leave Richie can’t help but notice Eddie written on the ID tag. He finds it a bit ironic.

None of them wants to leave, especially Richie. He’s never heard Eddie sound like that before in his life. His beautifully caring, loving, hard-headed, amazing Eddie sounded so eerily different. Changed forever in the blink of an eye.

Piling back into the waiting room they all hover around the doorway listening. Soon another set of hurried footsteps is heard and an older woman in a white coat rushes down the hall and around the corner, obviously the doctor. They don’t know what’s going on but it’s not good.

A while later a loudly sniffling and blubbering Sonia is heard. Richie peeks his head out the door and watches as she rounds the corner, the two security guards on either side of her. She seems to be cooperating well enough despite the state of her. Her face is absolutely red and eyes bloodshot and swollen from all the tears. Richie quickly ducks back in behind the doorway before she can notice him. She’s escorted by the waiting room, leaving more questions than answers.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Richie whispers to himself.

Everyone looks dumbfounded, unable to talk. What had just happened?

A few minutes later the doctor and nurses walk by. The doctor pauses near the waiting room, writing something on a pad of paper. “The sedative should help him sleep. I don’t want his mother visiting him until social services have been to see her.”

“They’ve already been contacted, they’ll be here first thing in the morning,” the nurse with the Eddie ID tag replies.

“Good. She’s definitely one of the livelier ones we’ve had in a while,” the doctor comments, continuing down the hallway. They’re all soon out of earshot and the Losers let down their guard a little bit.

“Social services?” Bev says, voice a bit too high-pitched and very worried.

“What the fuck, guys?” Stan looks at them all with dismay. “What has she done?”

Richie tunes out their concerned comments and theories, not bothering to add any of his own. Heart pounding he takes a deep breath and walks out the door.

“N-no, Richie!” Bill calls out. “Y-you can’t.”

“Like fuck I can!” Richie spins around, practically spitting in Bill’s face. He knows part of him should feel guilty for lashing out at Bill when all he’s doing is looking out for him, but he doesn’t. Anger surges inside him. If anyone prevents him from seeing Eddie now there is going to be a lot of resistance and maybe a black eye or two.

Bill and Richie face each other, neither one backing down. It isn’t until Bev steps up and places a hand on Bill’s shoulder, silently signalling him to let Richie go.

“Give him our love, Rich,” Bev says.

Richie gives them a sharp nod, turning around and striding down the hallway. In the seconds he’s rounded the corner and stepped into the entryway of Eddie’s room the anger inside him has loosened its claws. Knowing Eddie is behind the pulled curtain eases his heart, calming him.

As slowly and calmly as possible Richie enters the shared hospital room. Thankfully the bed across from where Eddie lies is empty. At least he didn’t have an unwanted audience when the scene with his mother unfolded. If there was that kid would have probably needed therapy for the rest of their life.

He steps in front of the curtain and almost starts crying out of relief and shock. Eddie. His Eddie. Propped up in bed wearing the latest fashion in hospital gown attire. He’s hooked up to an IV, the steady drip of the bag delivering the much needed fluids to his body to help it heal. The steady beep of the vitals monitor is the only sound in the room. Eddie looks pale, too pale. His skin is a waxy grey colour; the freckles Richie loves so much are dull and lifeless. A light sheen of sweat covers his forehead, strands of hair sticking down to it. Something Eddie would never let happen when he’s feeling well.

Sitting on top of the small table next to his bed is a tray of what could be considered food. Richie is thankful he can at least recognize the Jell-O, but the rest… not so much. He notes that Eddie has barely touched any of it but who can blame him.

Eddie doesn’t seem to notice or care Richie is in the room. Head resting back on the pillow he’s staring blankly out the window across from his bed.

“Eds?” Richie says as softly as he can.

Eddie blinks once turning his head to face him. The sensation of ice water being dumped over his head engulfs Richie. Eddie’s eyes are sunken and dark, almost black, but what scares the absolute shit out of Richie is how absolutely alien the person starting out of those usually warm brown eyes is. This is not his Eddie.

“Eddie?” Richie steps closer, almost afraid to do so, as if the closer he gets somehow Eddie will vanish from him forever.

“Richie,” Eddie says, his voice hoarse.

Relief at Eddie saying his name floods through him, easing some of that shock and fear knotted inside his gut. “H-how are you feeling?” God, Richie wants to hold him so badly. Tell him everything is okay, he’s here now. Press his skin against his and let Eddie soak up every healthy cell that Richie possesses. But the absolute otherworldliness and anger radiating from Eddie give him serious pause.

_What do I do?_

Eddie doesn’t answer, all he does is blink; his face is an eerie blank mask devoid of emotion.

“I’m so fucking glad you’re okay. I mean obviously something isn’t right, but we’ll fix it. The doctors will, I mean, but I’m here for you. The guys are all here as well; they’re in the waiting room. They send their love. Technically we’re not allowed to see you yet, but fucking hell Eds,” Richie pauses, his voice suddenly shaky, “you scared me so much. So fucking much. When I saw you on that field I was so scared I would never see you again.”

A slight crease of Eddie’s brows is all the response Richie gets. Eddie turns his head back to look out the window as if he hasn’t heard anything Richie has said.

Richie can’t help but feel a little hurt by this even though it’s perfectly understandable; Eddie’s half out of it on drugs and all that good stuff. “Do you want me to sit with you? Can I get you anything? Or I…” Richie halts, hating himself for what he’s about to say, but he owes it to Eddie to be alone right now if he wants to. “I can leave you alone.”

Silence.

Making up his mind that Eddie needs to be alone and rest despite how heart achingly desperate Richie is to stay, he moves to leave. “I love you, Eddie Spaghetti. Get some rest okay?”

“She lied to me.” It’s barely above a whisper, but Richie catches it.

Richie shivers at those words knowing that what comes next will not be good. The Losers were right; he shouldn’t have been in here when Sonia was otherwise he might have physically harmed her.

Taking a deep breath and steeling himself for whatever trauma Eddie has endured, Richie quietly comes over and sits on the edge of the bed. He doesn’t make a move to touch Eddie or hold his hand; he just sits, trying to give off as much warm and safe energy as he can to his boyfriend. “What did she do?”

Eddie focuses his attention back to Richie, his eyes glassy with tears and the illness he’s dealing with right now. “She lied to me. My whole life,” his voice is soft and scratchy, but worst of all completely heartbroken. “She’s been d-drugging me most of my life.”

Anger so cold that it burns radiates throughout Richie’s body. What the fuck has she done to the love of his life? Richie tries to remain as calm as possible despite every atom that makes up his physical body and mind screaming at him to do something about it. Anything. Make Eddie stop hurting.

Eddie continues despite the tremendous effort it seems to vocalize what he has learned. “I don’t have asthma. The stuff in the inhaler is fucking bullshit, just something to fucking make me th-think I do. Or did. I don’t know.”

A tear slips down his cheek and Richie instinctually brushes it away not giving it a second thought. Eddie doesn’t flinch or even really react which unnerves Richie a little.

“Eds, I—“

“But you want to know the worst of it?” Eddie looks at Richie with such desperation, such loss that all the air in Richie’s lungs vanishes. “There were blockers in there. Blockers. Like what you take now because you’re an a-alpha. They contacted Mr Keene at the pharmacy and he told them everything. How he’s been paid extra under the table to put that shit in my inhaler with the placebo since I was a kid.”

Frowning, Richie can’t quite understand. “But why would she do that?”

“Because, Rich,” Eddie’s voice finally breaks and he’s crying, big fat tears dripping down his face. Richie immediately grabs hold onto his hand, squeezing it tight willing him to take all the strength he needs. “Because she didn’t w-want me to present as an alpha or an o-omega. She wanted me to fucking stay normal so I wouldn’t leave her!” He’s near hysterics as he finishes the sentence, all the hurt and anger trying to explode out of him at once.

Without hesitation, Richie adjusts position and climbs into the bed next to Eddie. There’s not a lot of real estate for a lanky eighteen year old to take up, but he makes do. The anger he feels now is all-consuming, but it’s not what is at the forefront of his mind. Right now that is Eddie and keeping his heart from absolutely shattering from the betrayal that the person who is supposed to love and protect you most in your life has twisted that love so much that it is poison instead of unconditional.

Eddie instinctively curls up into Richie’s arms, pressing himself against Richie’s chest and hands wrapping around his shoulders clinging to him like a lifeline. Holding him as tight as he can, Richie lets Eddie sob, getting all those poisonous emotions and shock out of him. Quietly he murmurs soothing things, nothing specifically that will help in the long run but just so Eddie can hear his voice and help calm him.

“It’ll be okay, Eds. I promise. I’m here. I’m here for you forever. I love you.”

Richie has to wipe his own tears away as he holds him, his heart breaking for Eddie.

Damn Sonia Kaspbrak to the bowels of hell. This is not how you love your child. This is how you end up losing them. She is obviously pretty fucking sick herself, but that’s no excuse. If Richie saw her right now he’d… well, he isn’t too sure, but it would not be good.

Richie holds Eddie tightly until he’s cried out. Eddie now gives small hiccupping breaths as he clings on, using Richie as his life raft.

Long arms come in handy as Richie reaches over to the bedside table to grab the box of tissues. He rests the box between them and Eddie begins cleaning himself up. Swallowing hard, Richie doesn’t dare make a joking comment on how horrible Eddie is looking. Already sick and pale when he walked in, Eddie now has blotchy patches of red skin and red eyes making him look like he’s in the middle of some kind of transition into a zombie. It would be cool if this weren’t so sad.

“Feeling a little better?” Richie asks, placing a soft kiss on the top of Eddie’s sweat-dampened head.

“I think so,” Eddie whispers, sniffling.

“Good. I’m gonna stay with you, okay, Eds?”

“I dunno if you can. Rules and stuff.”

“Nah, I’m above those,” Richie jokes. “I make the rules here.” This elicits a small smile from Eddie causing Richie’s heart to leap with joy. His Eds is still there.

“Dork,” Eddie murmurs.

“Can I get you anything? Want some food?”

Eddie scrunches his face a bit in disgust. “Not hungry, still feeling pretty shitty.”

“That’s okay, babe. Eat when you’re ready. Do they know why you’re sick?”

Eddie doesn’t reply at first, but Richie doesn’t press. He could continue this conversation later, Eddie’s been through the wringer and the sedatives he’s been given should be trying to drag him under by now.

“They think it’s because of the blockers,” Eddie finally says. Richie blinks at him waiting for him to continue. “They’re not a hundred percent sure, they’re still doing tests, but my doctor says I’ve probably been building up something like a tolerance to them over the years. Since I never went through a change,” he licks his lips, staring at Richie with something almost like wonder, “they think that maybe I’ve been trying to change but can’t because the drugs fucking up everything. It would explain the fevers.”

A spark of hope takes light inside Richie’s chest. “So you’ve been trying to… change.”

“That’s what they think,” Eddie says, his eyes huge, almost afraid to fully believe it.

This whole time they have both assumed, rightly so, that Eddie is a beta because of him never presenting otherwise. But now, oh god, now there could be an honest to fucking miracle of miracles where Eddie is an omega. Richie is afraid to even touch the other side of the coin as to what could also happen with Eddie.

Trying desperately not to get his hopes up and kiss his sick boyfriend to death, Richie settles with cautious optimism. “Well then I guess we’ll have to wait and see,” he says in a bit of a daze.

Eddie seems to share the same sentiment as all he can get out is a small “yeah.”

The two grow quiet, lying with each other, lost in thoughts and extremely guarded hope about what all this could mean.

But too soon they’re interrupted as a nurse with brilliant blue eyes and long chestnut brown hair comes in to check on Eddie. Her ID tag reads Noora.

“Oh!” She says a bit startled coming around the curtain to see Richie lying on the edge of the bed with Eddie. “I’m sorry but you can’t be here, sir.”

Richie almost looks around wondering whom she is addressing.

“This is my boyfriend, Richie,” Eddie announces tiredly but with a smile.

A surge of pride and immense love bubble up inside Richie as Eddie reveals who he is. This is the first time that Eddie’s ever introduced him as his boyfriend to anyone other than the Losers.

Nurse Noora’s face softens a little. “I see. Well, boyfriend or not I’m afraid that you’ll have to leave as visiting hours have ended.”

Richie’s heart sinks at the information.

“But,” she says with a smile, “I have to go check on something which will take about five minutes and then I’ll be back.” She levels the two with an ‘if you get my meaning’ look.

They both nod, understanding.

“Good. I’ll be back, Eddie. Nice meeting you, Richie.” She smiles, leaving the room.

Sighing, Richie looks at Eddie. “You’ll be okay, I promise.”

“I don’t know if I will be,” Eddie doubts, “what happens now?” A look of uncertainty clear in his eyes.

“What happens now, Eds, is that you rest your cute fucking butt off, okay? And then you start feelin’ better. That’s what you do. Everything else you don’t fucking think about. Except me, always think about me.” Richie grins.

Huffing a bit of a laugh Eddie gives Richie a small smile. “I already do think about you an unhealthy amount.”

“Really? Which parts?”

“Beep beep, Richie.” Eddie burrows his head into Richie’s shoulder, letting out a long sigh.

Richie lets him rest there and runs his hands lightly through Eddie’s sweat-dampened hair. Eddie still feels too warm for Richie’s comfort, his fever still having a hold over his body.

After a few minutes of holding each other Richie gently shifts Eddie’s head off of his shoulder. “I gotta go, babe,” Richie whispers.

“I know,” Eddie says sadly then gives a huge yawn.

“Get some sleep, okay? And feel better, that’s an order.” Richie carefully untangles himself from Eddie trying not to snag an IV line or something else. Now on his feet, he stands over Eddie, not able to move. He hates leaving him especially now that the truth is out. Eddie needs so much love and support right now.

“Thanks, Dr Trashmouth.” Eddie reaches out and takes Richie’s hand, squeezing gently.

“Nothing to thank me for,” Richie says tenderly. “You okay if I kiss you?”

“If you’re okay with me being all gross and sick.”

“Dude, that’s just more of a turn on for me!” Richie laughs as he leans down ignoring Eddie’s weak protests of how gross he is. As Richie’s lips softly press against Eddie's, the childish part of his heart hopes that this small gesture of his love is enough to heal his boyfriend, both in body and mind, almost like how Snow White is healed with her true loves kiss. It’s a silly notion, but one that a small part of Richie can’t help but believe in.

Wrung out emotionally and mentally, Richie lopes back into the waiting room. All eyes of the Losers are fixated on him as he comes and sits down in his chair. No one says anything, giving Richie his space.

With a deep breath, Richie steels himself, trying to keep the dam of emotions he’s keeping at bay for Eddie’s sake from breaking. “That bitch has been drugging him most of his life.” He manages to get the sentence out before the dam breaks and he’s crying, brokenly telling the Losers everything.

_Three weeks later_

The fallout from Eddie’s illness, the revelation that Sonia had been drugging her son, and the whole forging permission so Eddie could run on the track team all these years have been intense, to put it mildly.

Eddie is released from the hospital two days after being admitted. His fever breaks and he is deemed well enough to go home. The doctors couldn’t give Eddie any solid answers about his condition, as they’ve never encountered a situation like this before. All the tests came back fairly normal with mild differences in his white blood cell count and hormones, but nothing to be overly concerned about. Eddie needs to follow up with his doctor regularly to make sure his body adjusts without any problems to being without the blocker medication after being on it when he shouldn’t have.

What the doctors did come to a pretty solid conclusion about is that Eddie’s body was trying to change and now things should proceed naturally after the drugs slowly wean out of his system. But as for him being an alpha or omega, it’s too soon to say. Everything is one big waiting game with an extra-large question mark overhead. Eddie hates it and so does Richie.

Social services came to speak with Sonia and Eddie the morning after the big revelation and falling out. To no one’s surprise, Sonia is investigated and now under supervision from child protective services. Which Eddie finds a bit funny since he turns eighteen in less than five months. But still, he’s glad that his mother is not getting away with this.

While no criminal charges have been filed (so far) against Sonia, she needs to follow some strict guidelines at least until Eddie turns eighteen or she could face losing custody. Getting a mental evaluation and therapy is just the beginning of it.

When Eddie is released it is suggested he go stay with one of his aunts instead of going home, but instead, he asks if it was okay if he could stay with one of his friends. Luckily CPS agreed as none of his aunts live in Derry and this would keep Eddie from disrupting the rest of the school year and his graduation.

This is how Eddie ends up living with Richie and his family for the past three weeks. Richie’s parents are naturally shocked to hear about what Sonia has done to her son and welcome Eddie with open arms, telling him he’s welcome to stay as long as he likes. Of course, Richie nearly combusts with joy at the news that Eddie will be under the same roof as him. However, it comes with some drawbacks, as having your boyfriend so close but off-limits because no one knows you are dating is frustrating. They have to be extra careful around Richie’s mom and dad when they are home, which is glaringly too often Richie has come to conclude.

During the weeks at Richie’s Eddie has been more withdrawn and quiet, prone to darker moods and a much shorter temper. No one blames him, especially Richie who tries so hard to support Eddie no matter what, even if it means leaving him alone.

As the days go by Eddie seems to grow a little brighter and bubblier, the obvious impact of him being so close to Richie most of the time having a positive effect (even if Eddie quite often remarks that Richie will one day drive him insane). This, of course, gives Richie hope that he’ll be able to recover fully one day. He misses the usually happy and fiery Eddie and wants nothing more than for him to heal. Already Eddie has had two counselling sessions set up by CPS to help him deal with the trauma caused by his mom and the severe trust issues now in their relationship.

Richie couldn’t give two fucks about Sonia. As far as he is concerned she could go fuck off and waste away miserably in her own personal hell. But despite how Richie feels, he knows that Eddie can’t cut her out of his life like that. So he bites his tongue, really, really hard, and will support Eddie in any way he can about repairing his relationship with his mom even if he feels like the embodiment of the puke emoji while doing so.

With all the drama and adjusting to the new normal, Richie hasn’t been able to bring himself to tell Eddie the news. Or rather he’s been too scared because he doesn’t want to overload Eddie with more monumental life changes, even if this should technically be a good thing.

Late afternoon sunlight pours through Richie’s bedroom window. The windows are open, letting in a warm spring breeze. Both boys are sitting on Richie’s bed, books and laptops open as they do their homework and begin planning for their final exams.

Eddie sits cross-legged at the end of the bed, brows furrowed in concentration as he reads something from his textbook. Unconsciously he’s brought up the end of his pen to his bottom lip, pressing it there as if to activate some secret power that will help him absorb knowledge faster.

_Cute, cute, cute!_

Now the question is how to continue with homework with a boyfriend this cute a couple of feet away from you? Richie bites his bottom lip to try and keep himself focused but it’s a futile effort.

“Spagheddie?”

“Hmm?” Eddie hums in response but doesn’t look up from his book.

“I have a problem.”

Gorgeous brown eyes that Richie drowns in every time meet his. “What?”

“It’s my lips. My boyfriend isn’t attached to them right now.” Richie pouts, pointing to his mouth.

Eddie huffs a laugh, rolling his eyes. “I thought you meant a homework problem.”

“It is a homework problem! I need to be kissed to continue, otherwise, I’ll fail and never get into college!”

“Uh huh,” Eddie says unconvinced. He places his books aside, getting on his hands and knees, crawling up to the top of the bed. “Then I guess I better help you solve this.” Eddie leans in, capturing Richie’s mouth with his.

Everything narrows down to Eddie kissing him. The blissful free-floating feeling that Richie always has whenever Eddie kisses him wraps around him, whisking away every other thought and emotion he has in a blink of an eye. Richie reaches up and gently cups Eddie’s face with his hands. They continue their slow and tender makeout session for several minutes, neither one wanting to break contact.

Richie gently nips at Eddie’s bottom lip as he pulls away. Eddie kneels there in front of Richie, not taking his eyes off of his. The sheer depth of love and affection reflected out of Eddie’s large brown eyes almost make Richie want to cry. How could he have gotten so fucking lucky to fall in love with his best friend? Blinking quickly to hold back any tears, Richie leans his forehead against Eddie’s. It’s a little awkward with his ridiculous glasses, but Eddie doesn’t seem to mind.

“I think I’ll pass now,” Richie says amused.

“Mmm, good,” Eddie says, leaning back sitting on his knees in front of Richie. As he does a small frown crosses his features and he looks away from Richie with sudden nervous energy.

“You okay?” Richie asks. He’s always been attuned to Eddie’s moods more than others, but ever since they started dating it’s become something almost otherworldly how he can read Eddie the way no one else can.

“Um, yeah, I think so?” Eddie’s body language betrays him as he grows more rigid with his posture.

“Eds?” Richie says with a bit of a warning edge to his voice as if to say ‘you can’t bullshit me here’.

Sighing, Eddie presses his lips together to gather his words. “My mom texted me this morning.”

Ah, so that explains it. Eddie hasn’t exactly been keeping in contact with his mom or at least not initiating any conversations. He’s still too angry with her to say anything without causing more hurt.

“Okay,” Richie says, trying not to press Eddie too much even though he desperately wants him to continue.

“She told me I had some mail waiting for me that is important and wanted me to come by.”

“D-did you see her?” Richie asks, surprised.

Eddie hasn’t seen Sonia without someone else with him since the hospital. “No, she just left it out on the porch.” Eddie gives Richie a small half-smile. “Anyway, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you but I…” The words trail off, Eddie suddenly looking uncomfortable.

“I understand, Eds. You do you. But you know I’ll always be there for you.” Richie reaches out placing his hand in Eddie’s. They lace their fingers together.

“I know, Rich. But I dunno I just felt I had to do this on my own, y’know?” Eddie looks at him apologetically.

Richie nods, encouraging him to continue.

“Anyway, there was something in the pile.” Eddie gets off the bed moving over to his backpack haphazardly thrown on the floor of Richie’s room. Reaching inside he pulls out a large white envelope with the top part ripped opened. He turns back to sit on the edge of the bed, holding the envelope close to his chest. “I… I mean this isn’t final, I can say no just in case you didn’t…”

Richie can’t quite figure out what Eddie’s on about. “Um, okay?”

Eddie blushes in that adorable way that makes Richie’s heart swell. “Ugh, fine. Just fucking read it,” Eddie snaps half at himself and half at Richie. With a sharp movement, he holds out the envelope for Richie to take.

Richie takes the envelope in hand and turns it over. On the front is Eddie’s address but it’s the return address and logo printed in the corner that makes Richie’s heart freeze in his chest. New York University. “Oh my god,” Richie breathes out. Big envelopes can only mean one thing… He stuffs his hand in the opening, pulling out the small stack of papers within. On top is a letter addressed to Eddie.

_Dear Eddie Kaspbrak,_

_We are pleased to inform you that your application to New York University has been accepted for the fall term of…_

Richie can’t even read the rest, his heart is now jackhammering inside his ribs so hard that it’s a wonder none of them are broken. He looks up to Eddie and back to the letter several times in quick succession.

Eddie’s sitting there biting his lip in nervous anticipation. “So, uh, yeah…”

Almost dizzy with joy, Richie doesn’t say anything. He can’t, the entire English language and all its variants have vanished.

“Are you okay?” Eddie asks now, worried.

“Shit!” Richie hisses, his brain kick starts back into gear. Almost violently he lunges over to his bedside table, ripping open the top drawer. Reaching in he pulls out a large envelope that has been ripped open a lot less sophisticatedly than Eddie’s. Without a word he hands it to Eddie, practically vibrating.

Watching as Eddie pulls out the letter and begins reading, Richie bounces his whole body lightly on the bed in anticipation. He almost wants to giggle with glee as Eddie’s eyes get wider and wider as he reads.

“Oh my god,” Eddie whispers. He looks up at Richie, mouth hanging open. “Fucking hell, Richie?”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah!” Richie grins like a loon, bouncing and rocking on the bed.

“RICHIE!” Eddie yells, his face is positively alight with joy. “This means…”

“WE’RE GOING TO NEW YORK, BABY!!!!” Richie crows triumphantly. Launching himself at Eddie, Richie wraps his arms around him laughing like a maniac. The two hug and laugh and congratulate each other. Richie is so proud of Eddie that he can’t help but tear up with joy. Eddie does the same.

“Rich, a full fucking ride! Do you know how fucking hard that is to do?!” Eddie says with awe, pulling out of Richie’s arms to study him.

Richie was a bit taken aback that he was being offered a full scholarship to attend when he read the letter, he definitely wasn’t expecting it. When he showed his mom and dad they began to cry, whether that was because he got accepted or because of all the money they’ll save he’s not completely sure, but he suspects it’s more of the former.

Shrugging a little sheepishly, Richie honestly doesn’t care about that right now. He’s too happy about Eddie. “I knew you could do it!”

“I guess,” Eddie tries to sound humble, but the large smile on his face betrays any of his false modesty.

“You’re amazing. MY BOYFRIEND IS AMAZING!” Richie screams out to the universe. Good thing his parents aren’t home. Eddie laughs so hard that his whole face scrunches up, his tongue sticking out between his teeth. God, Richie’s missed that look so much his heart nearly explodes. Lightning quick, he leans in placing his hands on each side of Eddie’s face and begins to pepper kisses all over Eddie’s freckles.

Eddie shrieks trying to get away but barely puts any effort into it. “Richie!”

Richie continues his assault, loving the way his boyfriend squirms and laughs as he attacks him. He pulls Eddie in for a bone-crushing hug, burying his face into Eddie’s neck. “I love you so fucking much,” Richie gushes.

“I love you too, dork,” Eddie giggles, squeezing Richie closer to him.

They hold each other, both with elated joy that they are going to New York together and won’t have to be apart. They can live and study with each other, but best of all they can be who they are, open and unapologetic to the world.

Richie nuzzles his nose below Eddie’s ear, loving the way Eddie practically purrs under the soft touch. Inhaling, Richie sighs contentedly as Eddie’s scent fills his senses. It takes a moment for Richie to register the subtle difference to Eddie’s scent before his whole body freezes in place.

A subtle difference… Richie’s mouth goes dry as his brain starts to careen off a cliff of different emotions and sensations. He’s not even sure what is going on. Almost afraid that this is his imagination playing a cruel joke on him, Richie holds his breath, agonizing if he should breathe in again.

Eddie notices the shift in Richie’s body and energy. “Richie?”

Richie digs his fingers hard into Eddie’s back, somehow trying to bring Eddie closer to him.

“Ow, Rich! What the fuck?” Eddie begins to squirm.

“Shut up,” Richie rasps, pulling him tighter.

“You’re fucking scaring me, dude!” Eddie begins to really struggle, trying to get out of Richie’s hold.

“Jus… just shut up,” Richie doesn’t let go, willing all his strength into his arms to hold Eddie in place. “I think I smell…” His words hitch in his throat as he inhales again. He almost begins to sob at the faint hint of change to Eddie’s scent registering in his brain.

“Rich? Richie? Goddammit, what the fuck is wrong?!” Eddie sounds panicked now and begins to shake in Richie’s arms.

Pressing his nose right against Eddie’s skin Richie inhales deeply. There it is, it’s faint, but the absolute certainty of how right Richie is, nearly makes him pass out. He shudders, letting his body collapse against Eddie’s as a loud hitched sob escapes his throat. “Oh, fuck.”

“Richie?” Eddie whispers with heart-wrenching desperation, holding him gently. “Please tell me what is wrong.”

Richie sniffles and untangles himself from Eddie and facing him, giving him the biggest watery smile. “Eds, I-I can smell you. Oh my god, Eddie. Your scent— You’re…“

“Don’t break my heart, Rich, please,” Eddie whispers quickly, his eyes filling with tears.

“No! I think you’re an o-omega! An omega! It’s faint, but I fucking—“ More tears spill down his cheeks as Richie laughs with the purest light of happiness that he’s ever felt.

“You’re absolutely sure?” Eddie presses almost unable to believe what Richie is saying.

“Yeah! Fuck. God yes. I can smell it. You. I dunno, but I just know. Eddie, you’re a fucking omega. We can—“

Richie is cut off as Eddie lunges forward kissing him hard and long, freckled cheeks wet with tears.

Both their hearts explode with pure joy and love. The joy that not only they’ll go to school together and begin a life of their own, but also the joy they’ll be together forever. And love. Such a deep all-encompassing love for each other fills and radiates from each other. 

They’re not living on borrowed time anymore. They can plan a future without that looming fear of it ending one day. The world seems to widen completely, opening her arms ready to welcome the two to the unlimited possibilities that she has to offer.

And they will be together to experience it together.

Eddie is Richie’s body, mind, and soul.

And Richie is Eddie’s, body, mind, and soul.


	10. Eddie, 17 years old

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s amazing how love, real love, can change a person, Eddie thinks sometimes. When he was younger he thought that it was always so dumb when in movies the girl and/or guy would get all emotional when they had to leave each other, even if it were for a short period of time. Now here he is acting like one of those characters feeling like Richie is going to the moon and never returning. What the hell, love?

The Losers all graduate high school in an exciting whirlwind of chaos. For Eddie, it feels sort of surreal, like he’d never actually get to this point because all he’s known what to do in life is to go to school. The other Losers agree they all know that it’s going to happen but when it does it feels weird. Good, but weird. Like childhood has really been left behind and now it’s time to grow up, except you’re still too young to feel and fully function like a real adult.

Eddie feels as if he’s aged a lifetime in the last couple of months with his mom, getting into NYU, and finding out he is an omega. Every day Richie pulls him into his arms and smells his neck where his scent is strongest and every day Richie tells him it’s getting stronger the longer Eddie is off the blocker medication.

Now that Eddie is an omega he and Richie have the freedom to spend the rest of their lives together if they want to. Breaking a bond between an alpha and omega can be done; it just takes a lot of distance, therapy, and time. Or the worst way is when one partner dies then the bond will slowly fade.

This is the issue that Eddie’s mom has been dealing with since the death of his dad. While she had a similar upbringing to Eddie with overprotective and controlling parents, Eddie’s dad was the balance that helped her let go of some of those neuroses. Since he was diagnosed with cancer and lost his life because of it, Sonia went into a tailspin of dealing with the loss of her husband and bonded partner. Also, the real fear that Eddie could get sick and die became a huge issue for her. She never was able to get past any of that and it’s what led to her reasoning for doing what she did to Eddie.

Eddie, with help from his doctor and weekly therapy sessions to help cope with that and his newly diagnosed anxiety disorder (see ya, asthma), now recognizes that his mother was traumatized and trying to cope with it in very unhealthy ways. It still doesn’t make it right or make him any less angry about it, but it’s a small little piece to the puzzle that could maybe help on the road to healing his and his mom’s relationship, which right now is pretty rocky.

Moving back in with his mom after child protective services concluded that Sonia would no longer be any danger to Eddie felt weird, to say the least. Going back home into his room with all his things felt alien to him. Nothing felt truly real to him now that the rose coloured glasses have been ripped off his eyes. The first night back he didn’t sleep, his heart aching at the loss of what had been familiar and what should feel like home to him but no longer does. Now home is different and with Richie. The damage done, Eddie knows that it’ll never be the same so he breaks, mourning the loss of that family and unconditional love feeling. He still loves her but resents her deeply.

The New York University conversation with his mom goes pretty much as he expects. Eddie almost comes away from it with permanent damage to his hearing after all her screaming and wailing about him going so far away. He doesn’t care; he’s owed this at the very least. Part of the money from his dad’s insurance policy after he died was put into trust for Eddie and his education. So with that and applying to scholarships, Eddie is free to study wherever he wants. He suspects the fear of CPS finding out and incurring more judgement from Derry about her not letting Eddie study where he wants gets the better of her, because a few days later she begrudgingly gives her blessing, telling Eddie that she is truly proud of him about getting into such a good school, which Eddie believes she is being genuine about.

He also asks for his father’s watch back and proudly wears it every day.

The Losers spend the summer planning their great migration to the Big Apple. Each of them has gotten into the same school or a school close enough to each other that they’ll be able to see each other pretty regularly or be roommates. Bill, Mike, and Ben are all gracing Columbia University with their ugly faces (Richie’s words), while Bev will murder everyone (again, Richie’s words) at the Fashion Institute of Technology.

Then there’s Stan, who casually drops the bomb one day during a random conversation that he, too, got a full-ride scholarship to NYU. Richie immediately tries to figure out how they can get a dorm next to each other, but Stan refuses, stating that the restraining order he’s going to be taking out on Richie will limit him to being a hundred feet or more away from him. Richie nearly starts to cry learning the news because he’s so proud.

Eddie and Richie apply for a shared dormitory telling everyone in their non-Losers circle that they want to have a best friend as a roommate. Which is nice for people to believe, but in reality it’s because they plan to make the bonding connection when Eddie turns eighteen.

Once the shock of Eddie’s new omega status dissipates they both discuss the subject, concluding that this is it, something they both want and has wanted for a long, long time even if they never consciously realized it. As soon as they come to their agreement Richie bursts into tears, scaring Eddie momentarily only to realize that Richie, his big sappy alpha boyfriend that he loves so much, is so fucking happy about their impending bond.

And then the words are out of Eddie’s mouth before he can stop himself. “D’you think you’d want to do it while we… do it?” He blushes so furiously that he’s sure each freckle has now been permanently burned off his face.

Richie blinks at him, not able to say anything. For a moment Eddie thinks he may have just killed his boyfriend with the way Richie stays frozen not even breathing.

“You mean sex?” Richie finally croaks out, his brain trying desperately to reboot.

“Uh, yeah.” Eddie now wants to crawl under a very big rock and never come out.

They’ve briefly talked about it earlier in their relationship, having sex that is, and things seemed to be progressing in a way that would lead to it. Eddie has always felt a lot less comfortable with sex because of the way his mom always drilled it into his head that it can be very painful and lead to a lot of infectious diseases. But Eddie is also curious; surely it isn’t all that bad when everyone is consenting and willing.

The longer they date the more Eddie starts toying with the idea of asking Richie if they could take things further. Of course, they make out pretty heavily and on those heavy make-out sessions there are more than a fair share of hard-ons, but Eddie cannot take that next step. Not yet.

Richie, while Eddie knows how much he wants to get into his boyfriend's pants, tells him that when the time is right Eddie will know and he respects him one thousand per cent. The last thing he wants is Eddie to feel like he absolutely has to do this just so Richie can get some relief. Eddie is so grateful that Richie supports him in this even if he must be blue balling it like a champ.

Then Eddie began to get sick and all thoughts of having sex with Richie for the first time vanished, any hint of a sexual desire packing up and heading off to the Himalayas or some shit. It’s only as he begins to heal and untangle the toxic web of mistruths and lies his mom has made him believe growing up that Eddie feels like he can make these decisions on his own and feel confident about them.

Richie reaches out, cupping Eddie’s face. “I am so here for that if that’s how you want it to happen.”

Warmth blossoms in Eddie’s stomach, knowing without a doubt that this is what he wants. “Yeah, this is what I want.”

“Fuck, I love you so much,” Richie breathes, leaning in for a nice long kiss.

After that conversation, Eddie preens with happiness that he and Richie will take their love to the next level and become bonded. Or claimed as a lot of people still refer to it since it’s the oldest term everyone is used to. Either way, he couldn’t be happier, his life—his _real_ life—is now starting to come together and so far it seems pretty good.

Except for one thing: Richie going on summer vacation with his parents.

Eddie comes over to Richie’s one day at the end of June finding him all mopey as he tells him the bad news. For two weeks in August he’s going on a road trip with his parents up to St. John’s and the Bay of Fundy, then up to Moncton and finishing the trip with a stay at Grand Lake in New Brunswick.

“Canada! Why the fuck Canada?” Richie grumps. “Why couldn’t it be like, Portland or something?”

“You’d really want to spend two weeks in Portland?” Eddie asks sceptically, raising his eyebrow.

“Fuck no, but it’s just so far,” Richie complains.

“It’s like less than a three-hour drive. Canada’s not that far, dipshit.”

“It is because you won’t be there!” Richie frowns, pouting.

“I’ll survive somehow,” Eddie laughs, placing a kiss in the middle of Richie’s forehead.

“But I’ll miss you.” Richie pouts harder.

“Hard same, but I think your mom and dad need this. I doubt it’s easy for them knowing you’ll be gone soon.”

“Fuck. I know they wanna spend time with me before we go, but why does it have to be so fucking far and,” he waves his hands around searching for a word, “Canadian.”

“Bring me back some maple syrup. The real shit, ‘kay?” Eddie chuckles, bumping his shoulder against Richie’s. “Look we’ll facetime each other every day, it’ll be like I’m right there with you.”

“Uuuuuuuuuuuuugh, but I can’t stick my tongue down my phone’s screen,” Richie groans dramatically, holding his head in his hands.

“Okay, good point,” Eddie has to admit disappointedly.

For the rest of the summer that little rain cloud hangs over them (mainly Richie even though Eddie isn’t faring much better) until it finally bursts on the day in early August when Richie is to leave on his vacation.

They’re in Richie’s room as his parent’s finish loading up the car and making sure the house is okay to be left alone.

Standing by the bed, Richie has his arms wrapped tightly around Eddie as they kiss. Eddie stretches up on his toes to capture Richie’s lips. Only he doesn’t have to stretch as far anymore. One surprising effect with Eddie being off the blockers is that he’s actually grown taller. Not by much, but he doesn’t have to stand as far up on his tiptoes to get access to Richie’s lips. His doctor thinks that since he’s been on blockers since before puberty it may have affected how Eddie has grown and matured physically. Eddie doesn’t mind this small side effect, at least it’ll keep him from straining his neck too much and Richie getting a bad back prematurely from bending down most of the time. He’ll never reach Richie heights, but another inch or two? Hell yes!

“Don’t... want… to… go,” Richie says, each word punctuated by a kiss

Eddie’s heart is aching already with the loss despite his mind telling him how dumb he’s being.

_It’s only two weeks you idiot! It’s not forever!_ He tries to tell himself but it doesn’t help all that much.

“You gotta, otherwise your mom and dad will suspect something,” Eddie murmurs against Richie’s lips.

“Fuuuuck,” Richie breathes in a frustrated huff. “Maybe we should just tell them now and bring you with me.” He blinks his magnified eyes, rolling the idea over in his head.

The plan is to come out to their parents, at least Richie’s, after they’ve left for school, stating that they became ‘more than friends’ while at university. Everyone does gay shit in university, right?

“Stick to the plan, Richie,” Eddie says sympathetically. “I’m sorry I just…” He trails off feeling ashamed.

“No, no, no, Eds!” Richie pulls him in tighter, sensing Eddie’s shift in mood. “Just a joke, we’ll stick to the plan, okay?”

“Okay,” Eddie sighs, leaning his head against Richie’s shoulder. He kinda hates himself for wanting to keep them a secret still, but since the shit with his mom and still being technically under her care by the law, Eddie doesn’t want to make things worse. “Sorry.”

“No need to apologize, my good Spagheddie,” Richie states in a bad British accent, kissing the top of his head. “We promised not to do anything without both of us being totally excellent about things and that’s final.”

Eddie gives a non-verbal hum in reply, pressing himself closer to Richie. The strong desire to be held like this forever washes over him, making his heart ache more at Richie’s impending departure.

“RICHIE!” Mr Tozier’s voice cuts through the quiet of their moment as he yells at them from the bottom of the staircase. “TIME TO LEAVE!”

“Nooooooo,” Richie moans, dropping his head down in disappointment. “Go down and tell them I died.”

“And what do I tell them when they get back?” Eddie chuckles, trying to hide the sudden pang of sadness in his heart from showing.

“I’m resurrected, duh. Richesus Christ back from the dead to annoy all you fuckers.”

“Uh huh,” Eddie says, shaking his head with amusement. He reaches up and tenderly adjusts Richie’s glasses that have become a bit crooked on his nose from their make-out session.

Richie beams at him as he does so.

“BILL’S HERE!” Mr Tozier calls up to them again.

Bill and Eddie are going to the movies after Richie leaves. Bill claims he’s wanted to see this particular movie since it came out, but Eddie knows it’s so he can keep his mind occupied and also a reason for Eddie not to go home so soon. He’s been trying to spend as little time as he can at home for obvious reasons and the Losers have been amazing in helping him do that by inviting him to various activities or to spend time at their places. Eddie really doesn’t know how he lucked out with such amazing friends.

Richie lets out a big dramatic sigh. “I can’t believe you’re going to cheat on me with Billiam.”

“Fuck off,” Eddie laughs. “You know you’re the only one for me.” He wraps his fingers in the fabric of Richie’s shirt, pulling him down for a kiss. It’s slow and deep, something that neither one is willing to break first. Unfortunately, neither of them has to as Richie’s dad yells again, making them jolt apart in mild shock.

“C’MON RICH! GOTTA GO!”

“OKAY, JUST A SEC!” Richie screams back. Eddie winces at the sudden loud volume of Richie’s voice so close to his face.

“Fuck, I guess this is it,” Richie sighs again looking forlorn.

“It’s only two weeks,” Eddie reminds him.

“Uuuuuugh, yeah, but…”

“I know.” Eddie takes Richie’s hand in his, lacing their fingers together. “We’ll survive.”

“I guess so.” Richie pouts.

The two take their time going down the hallway and make sure no one is around before they kiss each other goodbye at the top of the stairs.

The hot August sun settles on Eddie’s skin as he walks out the front door. Shielding his eyes from the sudden brightness he spots Bill leaning against his mom’s car parked at the curb.

“Hey, Bill,” Eddie says, waving.

“Hey,” Bill replies, coming up to the both of them. “Have a g-good trip, Rich.”

“You wanna go in my place?” Richie whispers loudly. “I don’t think mom and dad will notice.”

“Oh, that’ll definitely work, asshole,” Eddie deadpans, rolling his eyes.

“S-sure, but it’ll cost you a thousand bu-bucks.” Bill eyes Richie with a smug smile.

Before Richie can reply the passenger side door to his dad’s silver SUV opens and his mom steps out. “Eddie, honey,” Mrs Tozier says.

Flushing a little at the address, Eddie turns his attention to Richie’s mom. “Yeah, Mrs Tozier?”

“Went and I want you to know that if you need some space you can come and stay over here if you need to. Do you know where the spare key is?”

“Uh, yeah. Under the ceramic turtle in the back.” A lump forms in Eddie’s throat with the offer of being able to come over to the Tozier’s place even while they’re on vacation. This small gesture helps alleviate some of the anxiety inside about having to spend more time at home while Richie is away.

“Good! I know you know where everything is, so make yourself at home if you do.” Mrs Tozier nods, smiling. Now she turns to Richie with a mom smile that clearly says ‘do it now or you’ll be in trouble, mister’. “Get in the car, Richie, it’s time to go.” Getting back into the front passenger seat of the car, she turns and gives Bill and Eddie a small wave goodbye.

This is it then, time to say goodbye. Without thinking, Eddie steps forward to hug Richie again but stops abruptly. “Ummm, have a good time?” Eddie says awkwardly.

“Yeah, I guess.” Richie stands there not wanting to get in the car. He stares at Eddie with a look of such longing in his beautifully magnified eyes that Eddie almost begins to tear up looking at him.

It’s amazing how love, real love, can change a person, Eddie thinks sometimes. When he was younger he thought that it was always so dumb when in movies the girl and/or guy would get all emotional when they had to leave each other, even if it were for a short period of time. Now here he is acting like one of those characters feeling like Richie is going to the moon and never returning. What the hell, love?

Slowly Richie opens the car door and slides into the back seat.

“I lo—“ Eddie begins to blurt out, but stops, slapping a hand over his mouth in terror about what he’s almost let slip out for everyone to hear.

Richie stares at him dumbfounded, eyes as wide as dinner plates but with a small tug of a smile on his lips.

“I look forward to your return,” Eddie squeaks out lamely, body going rigid and blushing furiously.

Now Richie is visibly trying not to lose his shit, biting his bottom lip so hard to keep everything inside. Bill is snickering beside him trying not to do the same. Eddie wishes the ground would open up beneath him and swallow him whole. He’ll have a nice new life with the ancient lizard people underground. Hopefully, they have good WIFI down there.

“I look forward to my return as well,” Richie barely gets out without laughing. He reaches out and pulls the car door shut; his eyes glittering now with unshed tears, not from sadness, but from laughter.

Still blushing, Eddie turns around awkwardly walking towards Bill’s car. Bill follows slightly behind him trying to keep his composure.

“Shut up!” Eddie snaps.

“I d-didn’t say anything!” Bill tries to sound offended but fails miserably as he begins to laugh uncontrollably.

“You’re gonna! I know you!” Eddie looks over his shoulder, narrowing his eyes at his friend.

Bill walks over to the driver’s side of the car, grinning widely. “My c-car has been looking forward to yu-your return.”

“Fuck you!” Eddie bites out, holding up a middle finger and glaring at a still grinning Bill.

Eddie’s about to open the passenger door when his phone buzzes. Taking it out of his pocket he finds a new message from Richie: _miss u already._

Eddie: _you’re still in the driveway, dumbass_

Richie: _but still too far away from my Spagheddie._

Looking up he sees Richie’s face and the palm of one hand pressed against the window. His face is adorably sad. Eddie’s heart swells with love for his disaster boyfriend. Mr Tozier starts to back the car out of the driveway and Eddie doesn’t take his eyes off Richie as the car pulls out onto the street. He stays still watching the car drive down the street and turn out of view. A weird melancholy settles over him. Logically he knows this is temporary and Richie will be back before he knows it, but he still feels like a part of him is missing.

His phone buzzes again.

Richie: _love u_

Eddie: _love you too_

This is going to be the longest two weeks of Eddie’s life.

_Nine days later_

When Eddie wakes his first thought is that he fell asleep inside of a sauna or possibly even a volcano. Cracking open an eye, Eddie blearily looks around his room, his very hot room. The fan he keeps in here is usually enough to keep him cool enough to sleep in the summer, but obviously not today. His whole body seems to radiate this heat from deep under his skin.

Rolling over onto his back he winces a little in disgust from his tank top sticking to his damp skin. In fact all of his clothing is plastered to his skin, clinging on like an unwelcome warm wet towel. Immediately his heart starts to pound with the panic that this could be another fever. But he hasn’t had one since his stay in the hospital, so what gives? Could he legitimately be sick?

_Richie, I need Richie._

Thoughts like this are pretty normal for Eddie, especiallyconsidering the past year or so, but the absolute staggering intensity of that need goes right down into the marrow of his bones, burying itself there and lighting everything inside Eddie on fire.

_Richie can fix this._

Fix what? Eddie groans as the jumble of confusing thoughts run through his head. He slowly gets out of bed, peeling the sheets away from his exposed skin as he does. Gross. He’s going to need a shower for sure. Reaching for his phone, Eddie is surprised to see that it’s just after noon, a time he rarely sleeps in until because of his mother’s constant insistence that he maintains a regular sleep schedule even on weekends.

There are a dozen messages and one missed call from Richie. Eddie’s heart twists at the sheer want for his boyfriend. He’s been missing Richie a lot these past nine days, but this is more than that. Feeling his throat beginning to tighten with panic that Richie is not even remotely near him right now, Eddie instinctually starts to go reach for his inhaler on his bedside table, but it’s no longer there. His therapist and he agreed that it was time to give it up last month, as it provided no medical help whatsoever. Now, all it represents is a reminder of what happened and a toxic security blanket for Eddie that he doesn’t need.

Eddie sits there breathing heavily through his nose; fists clenched tightly in the fabric of his sleep shorts, trying to go through the breathing exercises that he was given to help guide him through a rising anxiety attack like this one. He’s been prescribed medication for moments like these if he needs it, but part of him doesn’t want to, wary that taking these will make him seem weak.

_“You’re the fucking bravest and strongest person I know, Eds. Don’t fucking tell yourself otherwise, ‘kay? You’re not weak if you need these.”_

Richie’s words from when Eddie told him about the medication and how he felt about it echo through his head. Eddie squeezes his eyes shut trying to keep the rising tears at bay.

_Richie, Richie, Richie. I need Richie._

That thought and rising panic jackhammer’s on repeat inside Eddie’s head and chest. This is getting too much.

His phone vibrates with a new message, distracting him momentarily. It’s Richie.

_Spahgeddie? U ok? Plz call me._

Eddie: _sorry, I slept in for once and just woke up. I need a shower. I’m all sticky from the heat. Call you after?_

Richie: _holy shit u actually got to sleep in like a human. Congrats!!! Yea call me after! Think of me while u shower tho._

A weird throb of warmth rises and falls inside Eddie’s stomach with Richie’s teasing remark. Great, now he is a whole mess of conflicting emotions.

Shakily he types out his reply: _Ok I’ll think extra hard thoughts of you as I wash myself all over_

Where the hell did that come from?

Richie: _fuck Eds don’t fucking say this to me right now my mom and dad are like 10 fucking feet away I can’t get a fucking boner_

The teasing exchange seems to help distract Eddie, bringing him down from that wave of rising panic that threatened to take him under because Richie isn’t there.

A sudden mental picture of Richie standing under the showerhead, water running down his hair, plastering wet curls to his skin, and Eddie there with him, slowly brushing those wet curls off his forehead flood his mind. Another achingly deep throb of heat rolls through Eddie’s stomach. His breath hitches in his throat only this time not from any panicked feelings.

Staggering up and to the bathroom, Eddie distracts himself by taking his temperature as a precaution. It’s within normal range which is a relief but also puzzling. Why is this warmth inside him so achingly deep?

He showers, washing away the sweat from the night and dresses in clean shorts and a shirt. This at least helps him feel refreshed and more clear-headed. He heads downstairs to the kitchen to eat something even though he’s not feeling like much of anything at the moment.

Moving throughout the quiet kitchen, Eddie pours himself a bowl of cereal anyway. Maybe some food will help him feel more level headed. He hits the button for Richie’s number setting it on speaker and puts his phone on the kitchen table, something he’d never do if his mom were home right now.

“Hey Eddie!” Richie says cheerfully but Eddie can tell that his mom and dad are nearby by the tone of that cheerfulness and the way Richie doesn’t call him any annoyingly cute nicknames. “Hold up, lemme go into my room.”

Eddie smiles, taking a bite of his cereal as Richie relocates himself. He hears the shutting of a door and then Richie comes back on the line. “Hey, babe.”

The love and care that comes through those two words make Eddie want to cry, but he can’t let Richie know he’s not doing well today. All that would do is ruin Richie’s vacation and cause unnecessary worry. Swallowing hard to keep his composure, Eddie says hi.

During their conversation the hyper-verbal babble of Richie’s words seems to sooth Eddie’s heart, causing him to become more clear-headed and banking that almost unbearable heat under his skin.

But too soon that feeling ends, as Richie has to go because his mom and dad are about to drag him into town for some lame activity. The moment they end the call with each other it’s like a bubble has burst, panicked and longing emotions so strong engulf Eddie that he can’t help the tears from spilling over.

“Don’t go,” he croaks out to the empty and quiet room.

Sniffling he washes his bowl, staring out the kitchen window blankly as he lets it dry on the rack beside the sink.

Eddie wants to claw his skin off now, that engulfing heat inside him seeming to rise harder and stronger than ever. Relief, he needs relief. He needs Richie.

“FUCK!” Eddie screams the frustration of feeling so bereft without Richie erupting out of him. Why does he have to feel like this? He shouldn’t have to feel like part of him is in agony without Richie nearby. Yeah, he misses his boyfriend, but today? Today it’s so much more than that.

Pressing the heel of his palm into his eyes to wipe away more tears, Eddie tries to control his breathing. He needs a solution, something that will help get him through this. Maybe one of the Losers could help? But Eddie feels too ashamed to go to any of them, especially being as much of a mess as he is right now.

Looking around at the empty kitchen and living room beyond it a thought flutters against the edges of his mind with the answer.

_Home._

Taking a shuddering breath, he realizes that this is the right solution. He needs home. His home, not the one that has become so empty and alien to him, but his new home. Richie.

Eddie races upstairs for his phone charger and wallet and back down in record time. He hastily leaves a note for his mom telling her he’ll be at Bill’s. Despite his fractured feelings towards his mother, old habits die-hard and she at least deserves to know he’s somewhere safe. Also, Bill will totally cover for him if she checks up.

Grabbing his fanny pack from the entryway table he races out the door and around to the garage for his bike. He lets the hot August breeze cool his overheated skin as he pumps his legs, willing his bike to go faster. Within minutes he rounds the corner of the street Richie’s house is located on. As the familiar two-story whitewashed home comes into view Eddie already feels a little calmer. He’s almost there.

Arriving, Eddie takes his bike to the back of the house and locates the ceramic turtle that the spare key is kept under. Palming the key he jogs to the front of the house letting himself in.

As he steps through the front door the familiar layout and energy of the Tozier household begins to settle his nerves even further. Quietly he goes up the stairs even though he knows there’s no one to disturb and into Richie’s room.

Like an over-inflated balloon, Eddie’s whole body begins to deflate and relax. Just being here inside Richie’s space makes all that heat and confusion lessen, the intense ache fade to something much quieter. This is safe. This is home.

Eddie walks over to the bed, sitting down, staring at nothing. Idly he runs his hand lightly back and forth over the comforter of Richie’s bed, relishing the feeling of increasing relief. He lies back on the bed, head resting on the pillows and shuts his eyes. Eddie breathes in deeply, inhaling the familiar scents around him. Rolling over, he curls on his side, burying his face into the pillow and inhales deeper, relishing the natural scent of Richie still trapped within the fabric.

Something snaps loose in Eddie’s mind and he relaxes fully, letting Richie’s scent tell every neuron in his body to chill the fuck out. Eddie clings to this life preserver hoping this will be the end of it and everything will go back to a normal level of missing your boyfriend.

Slowly he begins to drift off into a haze, his mind wandering to Richie’s smile and those lips. He’d really like to kiss his boyfriend right now; it’s been a criminally long time for him not to be kissed. It’s with these thoughts that Eddie is pulled under by the safe and welcoming arms of sleep.

Eddie jolts awake, disoriented to his surroundings. Late afternoon sun filters through Richie’s bedroom window, bathing everything in a golden light. Blinking, Eddie looks around frowning. Why is he in Richie’s room? This has to be a dream.

Rolling over, Eddie realizes he’s soaked with sweat. His clothes are soaked through even worse than when he woke up earlier. The fog in his brain begins to clear a little and he remembers the desperate need to get to a safe space and anything Richie.

Eddie lets out a low groan as he moves his limbs, his bare skin oversensitive with the heat within him. Just the small movements of his body moving against the fabric of the bed sends pinpricks of electricity across his skin, sinking into his body. The sensations don’t hurt exactly; in fact, they feel kinda good which only adds to Eddie’s confusion.

“Richie?” He rasps out, his throat is dry after sleeping half the afternoon away.

No answer.

“Richie…” Eddie whispers into the empty house. Eddie listens for some desperate miracle that Richie has come back to help him through this mystery illness.

A low throb of heat courses through his stomach and lower down at the thought of Richie coming in through his bedroom door to hold Eddie in his arms while his body seems to be going into overdrive.

A cold creeping sensation starts to trickle down the back of Eddie’s neck as the dots start to connect. Then the cold floods down in his chest, stealing the air out of his lungs and freezing his heart in place.

Oh god no. No, he couldn’t be. Not now, not while Richie isn’t here. Eddie lies there, gasping desperately for breath, hands fisting the comforter underneath him to try and anchor himself to reality.

_Help me. Help me. Help me. Help me._

_What do I do? Richie? What do I do?_

As Eddie struggles for breath he thinks over what the doctors have discussed with him after the revelation of him being on blockers for over half his life.Usually when a person goes off their blocker medication it takes about six months or even up to a year for them to go through their first rut or heat cycle. But with Eddie it they said that it could take longer or shorter, they weren’t sure. Now it looks like it’s definitely the latter.

Facts and information ping-pong around in Eddie’s head rapid-fire about what all this means and the varying degree of symptoms about going through your first heat. After a person presents as alpha or omega their first cycle is usually mild, the sexual need not very strong. It’s only after a person matures more and grows closer into adulthood that the need for sexual release gets stronger and more intense. And that need gets exponentially stronger when bonded with someone. They weren’t bonded, yet, but Eddie thinks that’s more of a formality now, as he and Richie have felt that deep connection for longer than they’ve known on a conscious level.

Eddie wants to scream. Scream with rage at his mother for doing this to him. Scream with frustration that this has to happen now while Richie isn’t here. Scream with fear because he doesn’t know what to do or how he’ll get through this. Everything inside him aches for Richie so profoundly intense that Eddie is practically paralyzed with anxiety.

_I’m in heat._

And because all these emotions aren’t enough for him, the crippling fear that someone could come and claim him before Richie can twist hard and violently in his gut. Thoughts and images of some random alpha breaking into the Tozier household to come and claim Eddie by force fills his mind. With the different advancements in the medical field and drugs it’s definitely not as common as it once was, but it can still happen. Eddie has never felt more vulnerable in his entire young life.

Gasping for air and blinking away sweat and tears from his eyes, Eddie grabs his phone. Pulling up the private conversation between him and Bill, Eddie momentarily hesitates. Yes, Bill is an alpha, but he trusts him. He knows Bill would never try and forcibly bond with him. He couldn’t do that to Eddie and Richie even if his instincts tell him otherwise. Also, Bill is still on his blockers, deciding to stay on them a little while longer until he gets settled into university.

Bill will know what to do, Eddie reasons. Bill can help fix this. He can’t tell Richie, at least not yet; all that will do is cause chaos and worry. Eddie doesn’t want to be the reason for that.

With shaking hands, Eddie types out a text sending it to his oldest friend.

_Bill, I need help. I don’t know what to do._

* * *

**_Richie, 18 years old_ **

Richie lays flopped down on one of the outdoor recliners on the deck of the cabin his parents have rented for the duration of their vacation at Grand Lake. He and his parents returned not long ago from a trip into a small town that really got Richie’s rocks off… of boredom. His mom lured him there with the promise of ice cream and dammit if Richie isn’t always a sucker for free ice cream.

Boats and other small crafts zip by in front of him as he stares blankly out across the water. He feels hot and agitated, but he’s not sure why. A weird feeling came across him as his mom and dad looked around an artisan candle and wine store. Fire and alcohol, definitely a great combo there, nothing could go wrong. Something under his skin kept niggling at him that something isn’t quite right but he can’t say why. The vacation, while at times a bit boring, has been nice even though he misses Eddie desperately. The conversation they had earlier had been great, both of them talking about everything and nothing.

So what gives? Richie taps his fingers repeatedly against the arm of the chair as he thinks. Lost in thought, he jerks slightly in surprise as his phone vibrates against his chest in his shirt pocket.

Eagerly awaiting a reply from Eddie to his last message Richie feels a little pang of disappointment when he realizes it’s from Bev. Maybe Eddie’s having dinner or something and that’s why he hasn’t replied. He’s well aware of Mrs K’s no phone rule at the dining table.

Bev: _are you alone?_

Richie looks over to his dad standing several feet away beer in one hand in front of the grill as he warms it up to cook the dinner his mom is preparing inside.

Richie: _nope. U need some input on some lingerie to wear for ol’ Benny Boy?_

Bev: _No. Message me when you’re alone._

An uneasy sensation begins to grow in Richie’s stomach as he gets up and walks inside. The lack of comeback from Bev is unusual and immediately sets Richie on edge. The intense urge to ignore her and call Eddie to make sure he’s okay takes over, but he resists that urge at least until he knows what he’s dealing with. Richie shuts the door to his room and begins typing.

Richie: _ok what’s wrong? Is Eddie ok?_

Bev: _he doesn’t know we’re contacting you because he asked us not to, but he’s in bad shape. You need to come back here. He’s in heat._

The world drops out underneath Richie’s feet as he reads and rereads those last three words. Eddie is in heat.

“Fuck!” Richie hisses at his phone, gripping it so hard it’s amazing it doesn’t shatter in his hands. Every single instinct inside him screams in unison: get to Eddie _NOW!_ Angry that Eddie doesn’t want to bother him with this news bubbles up inside Richie. Fuck, his wonderfully hard-headed boyfriend doesn’t want him to worry. Well too late now, Richie is more than worried and determined. An army of angry gods can’t keep him away from Eddie now. His parents on the other hand…

Quickly he types out a reply to Bev saying he’s coming back then flips to his contacts, hitting Eddie’s number.

Eddie answers on the third ring. “Rich.”

Richie’s gut twists with longing and heartache that he’s not there. That one syllable tells him everything he needs to know. “I’m coming back, Eddie. I’ll be there as soon as I fucking can, okay? Just fucking hold on.”

A small groan and hitched breath comes through the line. “No, don’t. I didn’t want them to tell you.” A soft sob follows his words.

Richie nearly screams in frustration that teleportation hasn’t been invented yet. The irrational fear that someone could come and claim Eddie now drop kicks Richie in his chest. He has to pause to gather his breath. “Fuck it, I’m glad they did. I’m coming and that’s fucking final, okay? Don’t you fucking dare tell me not to. I’m gonna be there for you as soon as I can. Let me figure something out.”

“Richie, I’m so sorry,” Eddie says brokenly.

Richie could fucking cry at how big-hearted his boyfriend is right now, wanting to hate and love him for it all at once. “D-don’t apologize,” Richie says shakily, panic rising in his chest. “I love you and I want to be there for you.”

Eddie doesn’t reply, but he doesn’t have to. Richie knows he’s struggling to allow himself to not feel guilty for interrupting Richie’s vacation. Well, fuck that, he’d much rather be with Eddie right now.

An odd and determined calm settles over Richie as he rapidly thinks of solutions about how to get back to Eddie. A plane? Does Canada have planes? Fuck, he’ll Google it. But there’s one thing that he needs to do first before he can make all this happen. He owes it to his parents for them to know why he has to go home _immediately_. A different story could backfire and somehow get back to Eddie’s mom making the situation a million times worse. Surprisingly he doesn’t feel terrified at this prospect, he knows he’s getting to Eddie regardless if his parents approve or not. Richie would much rather not hurt them, but Eddie is his everything.

“Eds?” Richie says softly.

A loud sniffle is his only reply.

“I know we talked about telling my mom and dad at Thanksgiving, but…” he pauses, trying to find words. Fuck he doesn’t want to push Eddie to come out like this but Richie can’t see any other way. Taking a deep breath he begins to mentally prepare to take the plunge into the unknown waters of revealing who he truly is to his mom and dad. “I need to tell them. Everything.”

Silence, then a soft reply. “Do it.”


	11. Richie, 18 years old

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After an unknown amount of minutes Eddie shifts, pulling slightly away from Richie. Looking up, Eddie gives Richie a small loving smile that takes Richie’s breath away. He runs the back of his fingers down Eddie’s flushed cheek, smiling. Eddie looks tired, dark bruises under his eyes show how much he has been through in such a short amount of time, but unlike his time in the hospital he looks healthy, flushed pink, eyes bright, radiating a kind of energy and heat that makes Richie’s heart swell with love and mouth water with desire.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As mentioned at the beginning in the notes this is the chapter where we jump from a T rating to an E rating. Tags have been updated accordingly.

“We’ll talk more when we get back,” Mr Tozier says, hugging his son tightly in his arms.

“’Kay, dad,” Richie says, voice muffled against the loudly patterned flamingo and cocktail printed button-up shirt his dad is wearing. Richie wears something in a similar vein, only fewer flamingos and more skulls, shrunken heads and demonic tiki cocktails. Tears prick at his eyes as he pulls away from his dad and goes to hug his mom goodbye.

“Please tell Eddie that we love him and we’re happy that he has you,” Mrs Tozier says, placing her hands on Richie’s cheeks. Richie studies his mom for a moment, her blue eyes wide with love and apprehension. Tears begin to slide down Richie’s cheeks and he sniffles, trying hard to prevent losing it in a public space.

“Thanks, mom,” Richie mumbles, turning his head away in embarrassment.

Mrs Tozier wipes away a few tears from his cheeks and hugs him. “When did you get so tall?” She asks, partly to herself and to the universe. Richie’s been able to rest his chin on the top of her head since before he turned fifteen.

“Should have put a brick on the top of his head when he slept,” Mr Tozier chuckles.

Richie tries to resist rolling his eyes, it’s not the first time he’s heard this joke before. Not his fault he shot up from a five-foot ten-year-old to a lanky six foot two eighteen-year-old in the span of like a week.

An announcement over the loudspeakers for the departure of the bus Richie is taking makes his heart race with both anticipation and relief that he’s finally on his way back. In less than five hours he’ll be with Eddie. He only needs to survive taking this bus from St. John’s to Bangor where Bill and Mike will pick him up and take him home.

Richie gives his mom and dad the last goodbyes, proceeds through customs, and gets on the Greyhound bus. As he settles down into his seat he feels like he can breathe again, but not by much. He’s been holding his breath since last night when he got the news about Eddie.

Last night had been… a lot, to put it mildly. Coming out to your parents and then telling them that your future bonded partner needs you now or he’ll suffer intense emotional distress is about as easy as Richie staying quiet for more than fifteen minutes. Oh, and that the fact that you’ve been dating said future partner for a couple of years now makes it that much more awesome.

The second the phone conversation with Eddie ends Richie knows with everything inside him that this is what he needs to do. There is no going back from this and if his parents don’t approve then that would be their problem, not his. Yeah, it will suck a ton of ugly ass balls if it comes to that, but Richie is laser-focused on one thing: get to Eddie.

Coming out of his room he finds his mom in the kitchen and tells her he needs to talk to her and dad. The tone of his voice or something in him must have set them on edge because of the way they sit down with him on the deck of their rented cabin, not saying a word.

_This is it, time to jump._

And jump Richie does regardless if there is a safety net at the bottom to catch and hold him safely or if he’ll meet the cold hard surface of the earth where he’ll break. But if he breaks then he has Eddie and his friends to help him heal.

With a shaky voice and his fidget setting on overdrive, he tells his mom and dad everything, about Eddie, their plans, and how much he loves him and has loved him for as long as he can remember. He can’t even meet their eyes as he talks, too afraid to see if the love they have for him would slowly fade from their eyes with each word he speaks.

He doesn’t realize he’s crying until he finishes telling them everything with a small shrug and, “so yeah, I’m gay.”

The sounds of the lake and nature surrounding them are the only things that are audible now. A nearby loon on the surface of the water calls out, the only living thing seeming willing to give Richie a reply. Sadly, Richie isn’t fluent in Loonadian to take any comfort.

Richie sits there, hunched over, elbows on his knees and head hanging between his shoulders, heart going a mile a second and air refusing to fully enter his lungs. The silence is torture.

_Please. Oh, please. Oh, please._

A hand rests on his shoulder and he recoils hard with surprise, head snapping up to see his mom standing over him, her blond hair looking like a golden veil around her kind face in the evening light of the setting sun. Blinking tears away he tries to not to completely shatter until he hears the verdict.

The soft smile his mother gives him isn’t exactly sad, so a little spark of hope blossoms in Richie’s chest.

“Oh, honey,” Mrs Tozier begins, eyes filling with tears, “we know.”

_They… know?_

Okay, what the fuck? Richie.exe has stopped working and needs to restart.

Unable to speak he stares at her in shock.

“We’ve known for a while, sweetheart.” Mrs Tozier says again, this time smiling big and wide, tears now dripping down her cheeks. “We talked about it and also to some other people who have gone through the same situation—but not anyone in town! Online,” she hastily adds as Richie feels like he may faint.

Richie feels like his soul is about to fucking nope out of his body with that nugget of information. He darts his gaze over to his dad who is staring at the two of them, his face looking a bit ashen from shock.

Mrs Tozier continues, “We talked and came to the conclusion that it was best to let you and Eddie find your own time to tell us. We wouldn’t want to pressure you two before you were ready.”

Brain still in the progress bar of rebooting, Richie can only manage a little choked “how?”

Mrs Tozier moves and sits down beside him, wrapping an arm across his broad shoulders. She gives him a little squeeze and wipes away a few tears with her other hand. “You two aren’t as sneaky as you think you are.”

_Oh shit._

“Uhmmmm,” Richie hums not knowing how to answer.

“Shortly after Eddie came to stay I caught you two kissing in your room one day as I came down the hall,” Mrs Tozier laughs. “You didn’t notice, so I let you two be. Your dad caught you two one time in the kitchen right before he walked in. He had no idea what to do or say so he came to me.” She shakes her head with bemusement at her husband for being so out his depth. “And I also had a hunch something was up a long time before that.”

“You did?” Mr Tozier asks, surprised.

“Went, you cannot be that dense,” Mrs Tozier says, rolling her eyes. “The way Richie would always look and sound talking about Eddie, the signs were there.”

“Oh. Well, I guess I’m not as woke as I thought I was with you, Richie.” Mr Tozier says, smiling awkwardly and laughing.

Now Richie’s soul has definitely exited the building. “Please don’t say woke ever again,” he whispers in a daze.

Richie sits there as his mom and dad talk, trying to absorb their words and what they mean, but he just can’t make them stick to his brain and translate them into information he can process.

Something kicks into gear and he interrupts them both. “So… you’re not upset? Like, with me and Eddie and bein’ gay?” A small corner of his heart is still afraid of that answer.

“No! Of course not!” Mrs Tozier confirms. “All we want for you is to be happy.” She turns to give Richie a big huge hug.

“You’re still our Richie.” Mr Tozier gets up and sits on Richie’s other side, wrapping his arms around him. “We want only the best for you and if that’s what you want and you’re not hurting anyone or yourself then who are we to say no?”

Everything is too much for Richie, too overwhelming with love and anxiety. The horrible intense desire to get to Eddie now, now, now, pulls at his heart as if it’s hitched to the back bumper of the Millennium Falcon. And now the fact that his parents fucking knew and love him and Eddie and support them boils over and he begins to sob, his chest heaving and breath hitching, letting out all that fear and relief in one fell swoop.

His parents hold him as he cries, telling them how proud they are of him and it’ll be okay. But Richie won’t be okay until he can get back to Eddie. They understand and want to help, but first dinner. Richie begins to get agitated and angry. Fuck dinner, Eddie needs him right now. He begins to storm off to his room to pack a bag when his mom and dad pull the parent card and make him sit and eat, he’ll think clearer with food in his stomach.

Afterwards, Richie won’t admit it but he does feel a little clearer-headed with a full stomach. They discuss the matter late into the evening and settle on a plan. There’s a Greyhound bus that leaves St. John’s for New York with a stop in Bangor in the morning. They’ll wake up early and make the hour-long drive to the bus station for Richie to take it back home. His mom and dad will spend the remaining four days of their vacation at the lake, giving Richie time to help Eddie. Of course, the unspoken meaning behind that hangs thickly in the air, but Richie’s eighteen and if he wants to have sex with his boyfriend no one except Eddie can tell him otherwise.

Richie barely sleeps that night. After talking with Eddie and telling him how it went, they spent several hours on the phone, just talking and listening to each other’s breathing. The crushing emotions of not being there with Eddie makes Richie want to scream. But soon he will be, even if that feels like centuries from now. He’s able to get some broken sleep only because he knows Eddie isn’t alone. The Losers have all camped out at his place for the night to make sure nothing happens to Eddie or any deranged alpha without a partner deciding to do something. The chances of that are very small, but that all-consuming ‘what if?’ is like a leech on Richie’s conscious that won’t let go.

Now Richie sits on the bus and stares blankly at the grey building and other buses as it slowly leaves the station. He hopes he can get a little more sleep on the bus ride down there, but he doubts it. Thoughts about everything race through his head and what is probably going to happen when he gets back.

Bouncing a knee up and down with nerves, Richie texts everyone to let them know he’s on his way. It’s still early and they’re probably not up yet so he’s surprised when he gets a reply from Mike telling him he’ll see him soon and that Eddie’s asleep.

Richie sends Eddie a private text: _just a few more hours, Eds. Hold on._

He leans back, looking out the window at the passing scenery, thinking about Eddie and how he hopes he’ll be a worthy partner and alpha helping him through this. Richie’s had his doubts about being a good boyfriend, partner, and alpha before, but Eddie’s always quick to reassure him that he’s doing fine and the best he can. It’s scary, yes, but at least they have each other to hold onto as they learn to navigate all this stuff called love and life.

Richie doesn’t realize he’s dozed off until his phone vibrates in his shirt pocket. Blearily he reaches for it and is surprised to see that he’s slept for over an hour. He’s relieved that at least he’s been able to get some more rest; he doesn’t know how things are going to go when he gets home. Things will probably get… busy.

Ignoring the new group chat messages he immediately checks his private convo with Eddie.

Eddie: _ok, miss you. See you soon._

Richie can read between the lines, he knows Eddie is trying to be patient and keep calm for Richie, but inside he’s probably screaming for him to get there as fast as he humanly can.

_I am, Eds. Please hold on._

Richie throws the door to Bill’s car open as he leaps out of the back seat and onto the curb in front of his house, slamming it shut behind him. Everything looks normal, nothing out of place. The house is just a normal house with all its normal looking things. Richie pauses, taking a deep breath, heart seemingly in his throat.

“Good luck,” Mike says behind him. Richie turns, looking at Mike through the front passenger window. They agreed they would let Richie take it from here, leaving him and Eddie alone.

Bill leans over the steering wheel to look at Richie. “Yeah, g-good luck, man. Call us if you need any th-thing.”

 _Yeah, a manual on how to deal with all of this would be fucking great,_ Richie thinks.

“Thanks, guys,” Richie says distractedly, turning his attention back to the house not taking his eyes off it. Picking up his bag he walks up to the front door letting himself in.

Richie’s lived in this house since he was five years old and not a lot about it has changed in those years except the updated décor. He had been expecting the same as he comes through the entrance, the same sights, sounds, smells, and everything else that makes home ‘home’. But he’s sucker-punched in the gut as he drops his bag to the ground and inhales. Eddie’s scent floats on the air, flipping the switch inside Richie’s brain that says ‘mine’ and if anyone dares touch Eddie they are dead, end of story. Home and what it represents to Richie are now changed forever in less than three seconds.

“Hey,” Bev greets him as she and Ben meet him at the door. Richie’s noticing she’s keeping her distance. Good. He trusts Bev and knows that she wouldn’t do anything, but a feeling of resentment in Richie rises up that she’s here and has been here taking care of Eddie instead of him.

“Hey,” he croaks, trying to hold the myriad of emotions inside him on as short of a leash as possible. Fuck this is hard.

“Stan is up there with him right now,” Ben says, gesturing up the staircase with his thumb indicating Richie’s room. “Thought that would be best.”

“Thanks, Haystack,” Richie chokes out, placing his foot on the first step. The first step to… then his brain blue screens and all vocabulary is lost.

Stan being with Eddie right now is for the best. He’s a beta and Richie and Eddie trust him with their lives. If Eddie would be completely comfortable with anyone right now that would be Stan.

He begins to climb upstairs towards his room but is stopped as Bev speaks to him. He wants to scream at her to shut up, let him go.

“Let us know if you need anything, okay?” Bev says as she and Ben walk out the front door. A small feeling of guilt twinges in Richie’s chest for wanting to lash out at her, but all his emotions and instincts are scattered and feel frustratingly alien.

“Good luck, man!” Ben says a bit shyly.

Richie doesn’t even bother replying to them, instead bolting up the rest of the stairs, taking two of them at a time. The door to his bedroom is shut, keeping Eddie safe and protected within. With a shaking hand, he places it on the doorknob and turns. No turning back now, everything will change as soon as he steps through that door.

Eddie and Stan are on the floor at the foot of his bed playing one of his video games. Stan’s complaining about being hit with yet another blue shell while Eddie is scowling at the screen as he concentrates navigating past Princess Peach. Immediately the tension and fear Richie has been feeling since the news last night uncoils from him, leaving him almost weightless with relief. Fuck. There’s his Eddie, safe and okay.

“Hi,” Richie says as casually as he can walking through the doorway. Fuck, Eddie’s scent in the room is so much stronger than it was downstairs. He wants to wrap himself in it or rather wrap Eddie around him and never let go. Dull warmth begins to bloom in his abdomen with anticipation.

Eddie practically throws his controller at the TV in surprise. He’d been so engrossed in the video game as a distraction that he didn’t hear Richie come in. He turns, his large brown eyes are full of such immense relief that it nearly makes Richie cry with happiness.

“Richie,” Eddie breathes out, his name sounding almost like a caress.

Stan hops up to his feet shutting off the game console. “My turn to exit stage left.”

Richie is barely aware as Stan begins to leave the room and places a hand softly on his shoulder. “Glad you’re back, Rich.” He turns to Eddie. “Feel better soon!”

“Uh, yeah. Thanks, Staniel,” Richie replies in a daze, unable to do anything except stare at Eddie, still sitting motionless on the floor.

Stan lets go of Richie’s shoulder and leaves, shutting the door behind him with a soft click. Now the two of them are alone.

“Eds,” Richie gasps, smiling so wide with joy that he’s actually here, feeling like he had to climb Mount Everest just to get to this moment. Worth it.

Eddie leaps up from the floor, flinging himself into Richie’s arms and oh god the sheer relief that he’s in now makes Richie almost buckle and collapse to the ground. They hold each other tight, neither one wanting to let go. Eddie’s whole body practically pulsates with warmth, a little supernova wrapped in his arms.

“Fuck, I’m so happy you’re here,” Eddie says, shuddering as the tension from the last twenty-four hours begins to drain from his body.

Richie feels Eddie melt into him, relaxing more and more by the second. “I’m here, Eds, I’m here,” Richie murmurs into his hair. The scent of Eddie’s sweat mixed with soap and other desires make Richie sigh with contentment, closing his eyes.

They hold each other for what seems like forever, each relishing the simple pleasure that they’re together and touching. Richie doesn’t let go; he won’t until Eddie says so. Everything is about Eddie right now and anything that he wants to do or not do or say or not say is up to him. All doubts vanish about whether or not he’ll fuck this up as the unquestioning certainty that he can and will be the strength Eddie needs to get through this fills his heart.

“I’ll take care of you,” Richie says softly, bringing up his hand to stroke the back of Eddie’s head, fingers softly running through his hair.

“Thank you,” Eddie replies a little choked. He buries his face into the spot where Richie’s neck and shoulder meet, nuzzling the exposed skin there.

Richie’s skin tingles with pleasure as Eddie’s hot breath caresses his neck.

After an unknown amount of minutes Eddie shifts, pulling slightly away from Richie. Looking up, Eddie gives Richie a small loving smile that takes Richie’s breath away. He runs the back of his fingers down Eddie’s flushed cheek, smiling. Eddie looks tired, dark bruises under his eyes show how much he has been through in such a short amount of time, but unlike his time in the hospital he looks healthy, flushed pink, eyes bright, radiating a kind of energy and heat that makes Richie’s heart swell with love and mouth water with desire.

“How are you? Can I get you anything?” Richie asks, gazing down lovingly at Eddie.

Shutting his eyes, Eddie sighs, laying his head against Richie’s shoulder. “Better now that you’re here. Fuck, I was so…” He trails off, unable to speak more, the words catching in his throat.

“I know,” Richie says with the utmost understanding, “so was I.”

“Hold me?” Eddie whispers.

“Anything. Anything you want, Eds, just tell me, okay?”

“Okay,” Eddie murmurs. But instead of holding on to Richie, he lets go, stepping away. His already flushed skin flushes darker as he glances down almost shyly to the floor. “On the bed?”

A throb of excitement courses through Richie. “Yeah, totally.” Quickly he kicks off his shoes and takes off the button-up shirt over his tank top, throwing it to land wherever the hell it wants to take up residence on his bedroom floor.

Eddie sits on the bed, staring at him with a loving and hungry expression.

Richie’s still very tall and lanky, like a big string bean with glasses, but he has been filling out some over the year and Eddie has remarked on more than one occasion at how broad Richie is getting.

Suddenly a pang of self-consciousness overtakes Richie as Eddie stares, not saying anything. “Uhm, like what you see?” Richie jokes to alleviate the self-doubt inside him. He puts a hand on his hip, angling it out as if he were a runway model, a very nerdy runway model.

“Fuck. Yes.” Eddie says in a daze almost to himself.

Okay, good, at least the boyfriend approves. “You’re looking pretty good yourself, Eds.” Richie grins, stepping over to the bed to stand in front of him.

“Huh?” Eddie blinks, not comprehending.

“I see you’re enjoying the latest in Trashmouth couture.” He congratulations himself on the use of fashion terminology he’s learned from Bev.

Looking down at the baggy shirt and dark red shorts, Eddie understands. “Oh, yeah. Didn’t have a change of clothes and no way I’m going back to mom’s now.” He picks at the front of his shirt or rather Richie’s, looking at the _X-Files_ -esque _I Want to Believe_ poster printed on the front. “You don’t mind?”

“Fuck no! You look sexy in my stuff even if it’s a bit big on you,” Richie says with a big grin, loving the way Eddie’s face goes scarlet at being told he is sexy. Biting his lip, Richie cups Eddie’s jaw and tilts his face up as he bends down for a kiss.

As far as kisses go they have both have had their fair share of hot and heavy ones together, ones that linger on the lips and in their dreams with promises of something more, but that more never comes. This one kicks all of those to the curb with a laugh and the middle finger as they speed off in their custom-built _Ferrari_. The staggering hunger and need that captures the two ignite a thousand powder kegs of lust exploding inside Richie. And by the way, Eddie is kissing him back, so deep, so greedy, and so breathless Richie can tell that the same is happening to him as well.

“Lie back, babe,” Richie pants, between kisses. He needs more of Eddie on him, more skin touching skin. Eddie looks so out of it drunk on love and lust that Richie bites his bottom lip at how adorably sexy it is.

Eddie shifts back on the bed, swinging his legs up. Richie follows right behind and lies down beside him, stretching out so that Eddie has full access to everything. The anticipation about what’s most likely going to happen soon sends little crackling lightning bolts of pleasure straight through Richie’s abdomen and down into his cock, beginning to make him hard.

_Mission control to Richie, your pre-launch check is underway._

They lie there, facing each other on the bed. Richie adjusts his glasses to feel more comfortable as he lies on his side. No fucking way he’s taking them off unless absolutely necessary.

Eddie’s face is flushed, a slight sheen of sweat on his forehead and cheeks, lips slick and slightly parted. His freckles are dark and pronounced on his face, making Richie’s heart pound. Is freckle fetish a thing? Maybe it’s only an Eddie thing and Richie definitely has an Eddie Kaspbrak fetish.

Eddie leans in for another kiss and Richie is more than welcome to accommodate him. They kiss again, hotter, harder, fitting seamlessly against each other in such a perfect way, desperate to let their emotional and raw love inside each other become physical. The little breathy gasps that Eddie makes as Richie slowly sucks on Eddie’s bottom lip and kisses under his chin and along his jawline, all deliver hard throbs of desire right down into Richie’s core.

They both break apart, taking a moment to catch their breath. Richie licks his lips, loving how sensitive they feel now.

“Fuck,” Eddie breathes out, eyes fluttering shut. Richie’s mesmerized by the soft dark eyelashes on Eddie’s cheeks and how beautiful they are.

“Yeah,” Richie replies, not able to think of anything coherent to say.

The liquid warmth inside Richie seems to be put on a low boil, for now, both of them satisfied for the moment, but they know that that moment will be fleeting. Already the changes in Eddie’s demeanour and face are apparent after that hot and heavy make-out session. Richie’s seen that look faked dozens of times in porn but now upon seeing the real thing, it makes it all feel tacky and fake. He has the real deal, baby, and it’s a turn on like nothing else.

Slowly, Eddie opens his eyes, staring and not staring at Richie at the same time. Pupils already dark and wide, his eyes are molten pools heavy with need, a clear invitation for Richie to do what he wants.

“Eds,” Richie begins a bit hoarsely, “before… uh, anything happens, I want to ask if you’re okay with this?” They both know where all this is heading regardless of what they discuss, but still, Richie has to ask, knowing that this is not exactly sticking to the script that they both originally agreed to. Eddie’s birthday is in a couple of weeks so as far as timelines go they’re not far off, but still, Richie doesn’t want Eddie to feel pressured into anything. Consent is sexy, yo.

“I—yeah,” Eddie swallows around the words, still not used to verbalizing his desire to have sex. “I’m okay, Rich. I know this isn’t really how we planned, but… I want this. Not just because I’m in fucking heat—I mean yeah, that’s part of it—but I feel…”

“Super fucking horny?” Richie teases.

Eddie huffs a laugh, freckles scrunching on his nose and dimples showing. “Well, fuck yeah, but I also want this. Feels good. Feels right. This ache I have inside me it’s…” he looks down and places a hand on his abdomen, searching for the words. “Fuck, something only you can help with. Is that okay?”

“Oh fuck yeah, babe, that is more than okay,” Richie breathes out heavily. Shifting slightly, he feels his now fully hard cock straining inside the fabric of his shorts. The thought of Eddie touching him there and soon almost makes him come. He’s not going to last long when they really get started that’s for sure.

“Thank you,” Eddie murmurs, reaching over, putting his hand in Richie’s lacing their fingers together.

“But you gotta promise me something, ‘kay?” Richie levels Eddie with a hard stare, squeezing Eddie’s hand for emphasis. “Tell me if there’s something you don’t want me to do, please? Even if it seems like a little thing or dumb? I—I know this is fucking new for us, but…” a wave of nervousness hits Richie so hard he has to pause for breath. “I want you to feel good. I fucking want to be good for you, not let you down.” Somehow he can’t meet Eddie’s eyes now, ashamed that he’s letting the doubt of not being good enough for his boyfriend potentially ruin the mood.

“Oh, Rich,” Eddie says softly with such warmth and love. “You never let me down.”

Richie looks back to Eddie, slightly shocked to see those big brown eyes glassy with tears. The love and trust radiating from him make Richie’s heart screech to a stop with how beautiful he is.

“I want to be good for you, too,” Eddie continues; smiling shyly, tongue poking a little past his lips. “And I promise I’ll let you know, ‘kay? I dunno how this all will fucking go down, but the same for you? I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable.”

Tears threaten to spill out of Richie’s eyes now. Who knew having sex with your boyfriend would be so damn emotional and beautiful. What fucking saps they are. “I totally will, Spahgeddie.” He runs his thumb lightly along Eddie’s skin where their hands are held together.

The mood shifts between them, the two of them letting go something akin to childhood and innocence, trading those in for something deeper and far more intimate. Please hand in your Childhood Badge and take this new shiny Adult (lol but not really because wtf is being an adult anyway?) Badge.

“I love you so fucking much, Eds,” Richie breathes softly almost in awe with how much those words seem to fail to convey the true depth of what he’s experiencing inside.

“Fuck, I love you too, Richie. So much,” Eddie says quietly, a hint of wonder in his voice, his eyes almost pleading with Richie for him to know how far down this feeling goes as well.

They lean in again, both capturing each other’s lips for a slow and lingering kiss. Richie swipes his tongue along Eddie’s bottom lip, pleased at how Eddie opens his mouth wider to give Richie more access. He wants to drink all of Eddie in, pull out every drop of pleasure and ecstasy that he can and ease that ache inside his boyfriend.

As the two kiss, hands begin to roam and touch each other with much more intimate intentions. Richie skirts his hands up Eddie’s sides and back down his arms, feeling the warm skin underneath and the way Eddie shivers in response underneath his palms. Richie’s touched Eddie hundreds, no probably thousands of times over the years. Simple and innocent touches of children playing and as friends just doing dumb shit, but now as Richie moves his hands over skin and muscle and sharp angles it’s as if he’s never touched Eddie before in his life. Everything is suddenly foreign and responsive to his touch where Richie is left to discover Eddie’s body in a new and much more sensual way.

Eddie’s making these little gasping sounds now as Richie runs his hands and fingers along Eddie’s sensitive, overheated skin. Eddie breaks away suddenly and Richie is momentarily confused as he pushes himself up, but it’s only to hastily remove the baggy shirt he borrowed from Richie. Eddie tosses it away on the floor without looking, something that he would never do with so little care to someone else’s possessions, but when you’re ready to get it on with the love of your life fuck clothes and all manners.

Richie stares slightly open-mouthed at Eddie, the shorts are the only item he is now wearing. He’s seen Eddie half-naked or near-naked hundreds of times growing up when they’ve been swimming or changing for gym class or whatever, but this is different. Now all Richie wants to do is to get his mouth and hands all over Eddie and taste and explore him. Kiss every freckle along his collarbones and lower. Run his tongue along each curve of muscle and divot of Eddie’s body, mapping it all out with touch and taste. Glancing down, Richie has to bite down on his tongue to hold back the moan ready to bulldoze past his lips as he stares at the large bulge straining inside Eddie’s shorts.

_Fuck, fuck, fuck!_

Richie’s about to suggest ditching all their clothes but before he can, Eddie swings a leg over Richie straddling his hips. Yeehaw! Save a horse, ride a Richie. The sudden friction against his cock does elicit a breathy moan from him, but it’s cut off as Eddie leans down, hands bracing himself up on Richie’s shoulders, hungrily capturing Richie’s lips with his. He lies there, letting Eddie move over him however he wants, touch him however he wants, kiss him however he wants, whatever Eddie wants Richie will give him.

Eddie’s scent shifts as he explores and becomes more aroused, it’s heavier and muskier than the lighter scent Richie was hit with when he walked through the front door. It’s something Richie wishes he could physically taste on his tongue like a fine wine. The shifting scent from Eddie also sends a primal indication to Richie’s brain that Eddie is comfortable and relaxed. General anxiety and self-consciousness radiate from Eddie but it’s only from the normal experience of being physically intimate for the first time. If Eddie were truly afraid Richie would be able to smell and sense it.

“Oh fuck,” Richie gasps out against Eddie’s lips as Eddie grinds down a bit hesitantly, that lovely pressure and warmth on his cock sends ripples of hot desire outward inside of him, making the hair on his body stand up and his nipples harden. Eddie does it again, harder this time and Richie can feel his cock slide partly against his. “Fuck,” Richie hisses. Already the familiar throbbing and tightness of his impending orgasm begins to build. Fuck, he knows he won’t last long, but this would be one for the record books.

Eddie pulls away from Richie’s lips, the sensations from grinding down against Richie steals Eddie’s attention away from his mouth. “Richie,” Eddie pants, grinding his hips down again and again. “I-I…” But he can’t finish as he shuts his mouth in a tight line almost as if he’s afraid that whatever he says or the sounds he makes shouldn’t be heard by anyone.

Sensing this, Richie reaches up and cups Eddie’s face between his hands. “Let it all out. There’s no one here. I wanna fucking hear all of you, Eddie. You’re so fucking hot like this.”

Eddie blinks slowly trying to piece together what Richie means. Suddenly it connects through the lust-filled fog and Eddie’s kiss swollen lips relax, parting again so slightly that Richie wants to roughly slip his tongue (and other things) inside.

“O-okay,” is all Eddie can get out before he grinds his hips down extra hard, this time letting out a low breathy moan that punches Richie in the gut on a level of Thor unleashing absolute destruction with Mjolnir because of how hot Eddie sounds.

Richie continues to cup Eddie’s face in his hands; he wants to see all of Eddie as he begins to succumb to this powerful and beautiful experience. Breath caught in his throat, Richie watches as Eddie's face contorts into a mask of pleasure, mouth parted, breathy moans punching the air, and eyes basically pleading with himself and Richie to come.

“Richie, I—oh, _FUCK!_ ” And then it happens. Eddie’s whole body shudders, his eyes flutter shut and an absolutely wrecked look overtakes him as he comes from grinding against him. It’s the most beautiful thing Richie has ever seen in his goddamn life. Eddie Kasprak’s ‘O’ face will be seared into his mind forever and ever.

“Oh fuck yes, Eds,” Richie whispers in an absolute daze as he holds Eddie coaxing him through his orgasm. “Fuck, you’re amazing.”

Gulping for air, Eddie doesn’t move, his eyes are still shut as he comes down from his orgasm.

Slowly, Richie brushes his thumbs along Eddie’s hot flushed cheeks with adoration. Fuck his boyfriend is beyond beautiful right now.

Opening his eyes, Eddie stares down at Richie with a shell-shocked look on his face. “Holy fuck.”

“Holy fuck,” Richie laughs in agreement. “You okay?”

Eddie seems to consider the question for a moment before answering. “I don’t think okay fucking covers it.”

“Good,” Richie grins and he pulls Eddie down for a kiss. This time it’s more playful and light-hearted even though Richie is still rock hard and ready to explode any second.

As they kiss in Eddie’s post-orgasmic glow he shifts, making Richie’s breath catch in his throat and buck his hips up slightly without meaning to.

“Fuck, I’m sorry!” Eddie begins to panic slightly, quickly looking down at the bulge in Richie’s shorts, but Richie shushes him with a soft kiss.

“Don’t be.” An almost shy anticipation overcomes Richie as he asks Eddie the next question. He’ll be fine if Eddie isn’t ready yet, but if he says yes it’ll make his head, and other appendages, explode. “Do you want to get me off?”

The question hangs heavy in the air between them for a moment before a soft smile with a deceptively wicked edge spreads across Eddie’s lips. “Yeah.”

Nearly passing out with the information overload that Eddie is about to actually lay hands on his dick, Richie manages a faint “okay” before Eddie leans up so he’s sitting back on his knees above Richie. He shifts down so he’s now straddling Richie lower and has access to the grand prize underneath those shorts.

“What do you want me to do?” Eddie asks a bit nervously.

“I don’t care, whatever you’re comfy with,” Richie says a bit huskily. “I don’t think I’m gonna last long either way.”

Eddie smiles to himself, knowing that feeling all too well. Richie watches with laser focus as Eddie lowers his hands to the waistband of his shorts and boxers underneath. All the air vacates his lungs for the untold number of times today and his heart begins to thunder in his chest as Eddie wraps his fingers around the elastic waistbands and pulls down, letting Richie’s hard and swollen cock out from underneath that fucking constricting fabric.

Without any words, Eddie slowly and hesitantly brushes his fingers along Richie’s length almost as if he is discovering something unspeakably wonderful for the first time. Which he totally is because this is Richie’s dick in all its hard glory! Eddie, meet Richie’s dick. Richie’s dick, meet Eddie. The sensation and look on Eddie’s face at seeing Richie like this for the first time nearly undoes him, but it’s not until Eddie wraps his hand around the base, squeezing slightly and stroking upward that Richie lets out a strangled cry as his orgasm drop kicks everything out from under him. Not lasting long is a big fucking understatement.

“Ohmygodohmygodohmy—FUCK, _EDDIE!_ ” Richie gasps out in a disjointed babble as his cock throbs with his release, come spilling on his tank top clad stomach and chest. Eddie doesn’t let go, he holds Richie in his hand stroking and squeezing him through his orgasm.

To be honest, Richie is a little relieved that the heavens don’t open up and a choir of angels doesn’t begin to sing Hallelujah as he comes like he half expected it to happen the first time he’d do something sexual with Eddie. It’d be really fucking weird to have a celestial audience, but the sentiment is still there, only in a way that is like some fucking holy or sacred experience without all the glowy lights and hallucinations.

While his getting off start to finish time is indeed a new Richie Tozier world record it’s safe to say that this is the best orgasm he's ever had in his life. Things really are better with friends.

“Fuuuuuuuck,” Richie groans, coming down from that warm explodey feeling. His body begins to enter that post-orgasmic Jell-O state where nothing else matters. Shutting his eyes, he lies there letting those lovely sensations crawl all over his body, dragging him towards contented bliss.

Eddie slides off of Richie’s thighs to sit next to him, head and shoulders propped up against the headboard. Richie watches with half-lidded eyes and a soft smile, as Eddie gets comfy. They can clean up in a minute.

Licking his lips, Eddie looks down at Richie with flushed cheeks and almost embarrassed energy about him. “Was that okay?”

Richie’s eyes snap open as he levels Eddie with a puzzled frown. “Okay? Dude, that was mind-blowing.” He chuckles, adjusting his glasses and rolling over on his side to be closer to Eddie. “Best. Orgasm. Ever.”

“Well good!” Eddie laughs, his tongue peeking out between his teeth a little as he does. “But I hope next time I can make it better for you.”

For whatever odd reason Richie is almost shocked that there will be a next time. It’s only logical since yeah they’re dating and in love, but the sudden notion that he gets to do this with Eddie, again and again, makes his heart do _The Carlton_ in his chest. Maybe focusing on the first time so much made Richie forget that there will be many more times after this one. Awwwww yeah.

Eddie begins to get off the bed, but Richie immediately stops him. “Whatcha need, Spahgeddie? I’m here to serve you in all ways.” He waggles his eyebrows in his very comical Richie way. That gesture causes Eddie to laugh again, making Richie happier than anyone in the universe.

“Well, your shorts are all messed up,” Eddie says wrinkling his nose a bit in disgust looking down at the wet stain seeping through the fabric.

“My shorts…” That’s when Richie registers that Eddie’s been wearing a pair of his shorts this whole time, he just didn’t recognize them because the baggy t-shirt Eddie was wearing covered most of them up. An intense and dark fire seems to leap up inside Richie that Eddie came in his shorts, spilling himself inside the fabric that Richie wears against his skin. An even darker and lewd thought crosses Richie’s mind about never washing those shorts again and wearing them, having something so special and intimate of Eddie pressed against him whenever he wants. He’s vaguely aware of his rational brain short shaming him and making a big ‘time out’ gesture. Whatever the case may be, Richie does know without a shred of doubt these shorts are now his favourite and he’ll wear them as much as he can and will make Eddie wear them again along with other articles of his clothing.

_My boyfriend fucked himself against me wearing these and he came so goddamn hard inside them._

Richie’s definitely said just as lewd if not lewder shit in his lifetime, but the thought of telling people that fact makes that fire lick up each nerve inside him, igniting that liquid pool of desire again low in his abdomen.

Swallowing hard, Richie tries to string together a few coherent words and surprisingly succeeds. “Sit back, babe. I’ll get us some towels and shit. Want anything else?”

“Just you.”

Throbbing anticipation overcomes Richie. “You got it.”


	12. Richie, 18 years old

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The staggering realization that he is holding everything that is Eddie and what makes him incredible in his metaphorical hands right now releases something inside him so fierce with love and protection that he almost blacks out. Richie already knows he will do everything in his power to love and make Eddie happy, but he didn’t fully realize the sheer depth of those emotions until this very moment.

Naturally, Richie has fantasized a lot about what he’s wanted to do with Eddie in bed when they decided to take that next step together. And naturally, he’s imagined spending entire days together in bed fucking each other senseless. Now that this has become reality the sexy fantasy bubble has sorta burst leaving Richie a bit overwhelmed and in a sex induced daze.

While he loves it and loves making Eddie feel so good, he’s beginning to worry about him. It’s been over twenty-four hours since Richie got back and he and Eddie had their little grinding session against each other, which was fucking fantastic, but the more Richie makes Eddie come the more needy and frantic Eddie gets. To put it mildly, Eddie is downright fucking feral. It’s such a fucking turn on for Richie but also highly draining, as he’s barely been able to keep up. He thought eighteen-year-olds were supposed to have unlimited sexual power, but now he suspects that movies and the Internet are big fat liars.

When Richie gets back after getting towels and other supplies from the bathroom, Eddie’s lying on his bed fully naked. Richie blue screens on the spot looking at Eddie stretched out on his bed just… waiting. The sight of seeing his boyfriend fully naked for the first time _Shazam!’_ s his dick hard again when it’s barely been fifteen minutes since the last time.

Richie enthusiastically hops back into bed and he and Eddie spend more time exploring each other with fingers, hands, and lips, taking care to discover new things and fall harder in love with each other. While they don’t last too long again, it is amazing how good it feels as Richie jerks Eddie off and Eddie returns the favour while they lie facing each other, moaning and gasping into each other’s mouths. If his orgasm previously was the best one he’s ever had then this one flings it off the fucking cliff and into a stampede of wildebeest.

They continue like this, slowly feeling each other until things get superheated and the need to come again, especially for Eddie, sweeps them under. Richie makes sure that Eddie is taken care of in whatever he needs even if he may not be getting the same reciprocation. It’s okay though because Richie knows in his heart that this is what he’s meant to do. The instinct to take care of his omega is the top priority. He can ask Eddie to try out more stuff after they get past his heat.

The first time Richie takes Eddie’s cock into his mouth is beyond anything he thought it would feel like. The heaviness on his tongue and the stretch of his lips around it is intoxicating. While Richie has watched his fair share of porn and tried to take notes on how to suck dick, it’s still sloppy, disjointed, and awkward. But holy fuck the noises and reactions that it gets out of Eddie has Richie grinding against the mattress as he sucks him off because it’s so hot. Richie never expected the level of filth that would drip from Eddie’s mouth as he swiped his tongue along the head, lapping up the precome, and kneading his balls.

When Eddie comes in Richie’s mouth it triggers his release, spilling onto his bed sheets with such a throbbing intensity that it makes Richie groan around Eddie. The sensations from Richie’s humming around Eddie’s cock like that almost cause him to knee Richie in the face with the surprising force of how good that feels. Humming while blowing Eddie is a thing Richie proudly notes.

After the incident and adjusting his very crooked glasses on his nose, Richie giggles with such love with how adorably apologetic Eddie is about almost giving him a black eye. But fuck, what a story that would be?

_Yeah, my boyfriend gave me a black eye while I was blowing him. It was AWESOME!_

Jaw sore and the weird and almost salty taste of Eddie’s come in his mouth, Richie decides that sucking cock is a new favourite thing of his. But of course not just any cock, it has to be Eddie’s. Richie Tozier is now a literal cocksucker and he couldn’t be happier. His newfound determination to perfect his cocksucking game would be hilarious if Richie wasn’t dead serious about it. Already his mouth waters at the thought of the next time he gets to do it. Cocksucking kink: unlocked.

Richie’s able to get some sleep that night, but it’s broken as Eddie tosses and turns, his sleep restless and plagued with his body going through a roller coaster of new sensations and needs. Richie wakes up at one point with Eddie grinding himself into the side of Richie’s hip half asleep. It’s kinda weird at first but also super fucking erotic. Wrung out from the day before Richie’s sex drive is on a timeout, but he holds Eddie in his arms, helping him finish to completion with soft sleepy moans and expletives.

In the morning when Richie wakes, it's full attention and all guns locked and loaded. They spend the morning and afternoon pretty much the same as they did yesterday. At one point while Eddie dozes Richie takes the opportunity to order a couple of large pizzas because there’s no way he’s going downstairs to make something for the two of them. Every instinct inside Richie tells him to not leave Eddie’s side. It’s hard enough for him to just go downstairs and get them water and snacks to help keep up their energy for their next round.

Richie’s oddly horrified and super proud as Eddie eats half a large pizza in nearly fifteen minutes after he wakes up from his nap. After Eddie finishes with a loud garlic-y burp, Richie assumes he would slip into a food coma after eating all that and so quickly, but nope, Eddie’s ready to go for round nine hundred or whatever the count may be now. Richie doesn’t even care about the pizza breath; he actually finds it kinda cute.

Now it’s dark out and Richie is fucking tired and sore. All he wants to do is pass out for the foreseeable future. His whole body aches in ways he’s never thought it could and while it’s a good feeling all he’d love to do is rest. But he can’t because of Eddie. For the last half hour, he’s been holding Eddie in his arms trying to calm him down and fend off the anxiety that is trying to sink its claws into him.

“It’s okay, Eds, I have you,” Richie murmurs into Eddie’s sweat-dampened hair then kisses the top of his head. Eddie turns his attention to him; fever bright eyes almost pleading and skin dampened with sweat. The heat radiating from Eddie is something that freaks Richie out a little bit with what Eddie’s been through. Eventually, it causes him to break down and text his parents to ask if he should take Eddie to the hospital. Thankfully though they say it’s normal and Richie and Eddie should just try and relax. Yeah, sure, easier fucking said than done.

“I’m so tired. I just want it to fucking stop!” Eddie says wearily, burying his face into the crook of Richie’s neck. “This fucking ache inside, just make it stop.”

Richie tries soothing Eddie the best he can, but he’s at a loss with what to do or at least what Eddie is willing to do. There is one glaringly obvious thing that Richie has thought of suggesting but somehow can’t. The fear that he’ll make Eddie freak out or feel like he’s pressuring him into something still lurks inside, a shadow that won’t fully disappear. So far Eddie’s been pretty vocal about what he wants and Richie has been able to gauge how far to push it for them to be both comfortable, but this is the last real big cherry left to pop.

The small sensation of wetness falls onto Richie’s skin and down his collarbone. Eddie’s crying now with small shuddering breaths that make Richie’s heart ache that Eddie is in distress but he can’t fix it for him.

“Hey, hey, hey,” Richie says calmly but inside he’s feeling anything but. “You’re okay, Eds. You’re okay.”

“No, I’m not,” Eddie says wetly with a hitching breath. “I just want it to stop.”

“What can I do?” Richie tries to look down but it’s a bit awkward when your boyfriend tries to nuzzle himself deeper into your neck. “Hey, can you look at me?”

Eddie doesn’t move for several moments then slowly lifts his head to focus on Richie. Moving his hand to Eddie’s cheek, Richie gently wipes away the wet track of tears with his thumb. Eddie’s tired, they’re both tired, so Richie cannot blame him one bit for reaching his limit but still suffering the physical toll of being in heat. Fuck, what will his rut be like then? Will it be this hard? Richie doesn’t want to think about it.

“Anything you fucking need, Spahgeddie, I’ll do for you. What do you think will make you feel better? I can go and put on a fucking pair of my mom’s high heels if it’ll help. I’ll never be able to look her in the eye again when she wears them, but I’ll do it!”

This does the trick making Eddie laugh at the absurdity of the gesture. He gives Richie a weak smile before leaning up to place a soft kiss on his lips.

“I think I know but I’ve been afraid to ask,” Eddie admits as he pulls away. He places a hand on Richie’s chest and stares at his fingers splayed out over Richie’s soft skin, not able to meet his eyes.

“You don’t have to be afraid to ask me anything, y’know,” Richie says softly. He takes his hand and places it over Eddie’s in the hope it’ll help ease the turmoil in Eddie’s mind.

The room is silent except for their breathing. Richie doesn’t want to push even though he’d bet his entire record collection on what Eddie wants to say. This is something Eddie needs to want fully on his own.

“I need you to fuck me.” The words are barely above a whisper but are no less powerful.

“You sure?”

“Yeah, I need this. I want this. I want you. Will you, Rich?”

“Yeah, I fucking will. I said anything and I mean it. I’ve been wanting this as well,” Richie says, placing a soft kiss to Eddie’s forehead. He untangles himself from Eddie and gets out of bed. Crouching down on the floor, Richie gets down on his hands and knees and sticks an arm under his bed as if searching for something.

“Um, Rich?” Eddie’s confused voice comes from above him.

Richie’s questing hand brushes against a plastic bag and he grabs it, pulling it out from under his bed. Kneeling beside the bed he dumps the contents out onto the mattress, pleased at the way Eddie blinks at him in surprise. Several boxes of condoms, a bottle of lube, and latex gloves lie between them and Richie feels a swell of pride for himself for being so responsible. Safe sex is great sex.

Tentatively Eddie reaches out and picks up a box of condoms studying the label. “XL?” He arches an eyebrow at Richie with a small smirk. It’s true; Richie is above average in the dick size department, which is something Eddie has been pleasantly pleased with since yesterday, but he’s not like porn star level.

“Hey! First-time condom buyer here I have to have all my bases covered.” Richie gets up and sits on the edge of the bed.

“What are the gloves for?” Eddie asks with a quizzical look as he puts the box of condoms down.

Richie shrugs. “I dunno, I just thought if you were uncomfortable with anything they may come in handy.” He grins, holding up his hand and wiggling his fingers, proud at the lame pun.

“Oh my god,” Eddie groans but laughs at the same time. “For a second I thought you wanted to fucking fist me.”

A cold chill creeps into Richie’s chest at the thought. That is way too far outside of the kinky circle of possibilities to think about right now. “Uh, no. That’s totally something we can tackle next week.”

“Ugh, gross!” Eddie grimaces sticking out his tongue in disgust.

Shoving the boxes of condoms, lube, and gloves to the end of the bed, Richie shifts so he’s lying propped up against the pillows. He opens his arms as an invitation for Eddie who shifts over, laying his head on Richie’s shoulder.

“Love you,” Richie says, lightly tracing his fingers up and down over Eddie’s bicep.

“Love you, too,” Eddie murmurs, his body relaxing. Only minutes before he was radiating tension, his body stiff and unyielding from anxiety, but the longer Richie holds Eddie the more tension drains from both their bodies. Richie wants Eddie to be as relaxed as possible before they... fuck. The word floats around in Richie’s head like a big flashing neon sign akin to the ones that lure people into adult establishments. Welp, not gonna get more adult than being balls deep in your boyfriend.

Richie lazily traces his fingers around on Eddie’s skin in little random patterns, making sure he lightly circles each freckle as he encounters them. Soon Eddie is humming with approval as Richie reaches his collarbones and his neck, inhaling the heady musky scent of Eddie in heat. Instinct tells Richie that Eddie is relaxed enough now to proceed further. Cupping Eddie’s jaw, Richie angles his head up for a long and deep kiss. When they part, Eddie's eyes are still fever bright but now encompass this wanting anticipation which sends a pleasant throb to Richie’s cock. He’s not hard yet but he soon will be.

“You okay to lie back?” Richie asks quietly.

Smiling almost shyly, Eddie nods. “Yeah.”

They move around and get into position; Eddie lies on his back and Richie leans over him, a big smile plastered on his face. Leaning in, Richie begins to kiss Eddie again nice and deep, making sure that Eddie’s lips get their fair share of attention.

Following the trail of freckles on his face, Richie kisses his way along Eddie’s cheekbone to his ear where he proceeds to bite down softly. This makes Eddie give out a shuddering sigh of pleasure, which once again is a direct signal to Richie’s cock. He could listen to Eddie sigh and moan forever and ever. The fact that he can do this for his Eddie is like a drug Richie is now addicted to with no recovery in sight. Why would he want to ever want to?

With tongue, teeth, and lips, Richie manages his way down Eddie’s neck and spends a considerable amount of time over that spot where he’ll be able to bite Eddie, cementing their bond to each other and making sure other alphas know that Eddie’s has an alpha and bonded partner. It almost seems barbaric with how it all works, but it’s something so old and so ingrained in alphas and omegas that it’s the most natural thing in the world.

Richie scrapes his teeth lightly over the spot on Eddie’s throat, licking a trail back over it. It would be so easy to just bite down, claim Eddie now, make their bond official, but he can’t. Eddie’s birthday is still a couple of weeks away.

“Oh, Richie,” Eddie breathes out as Richie continues his ministrations around that intoxicating area. Eddie begins to squirm, angling his neck away so Richie can have better access.

“Soon, Eds. Soon,” Richie murmurs, lips brushing over that sweet spot.

“Fuck,” Eddie whines. Richie can practically feel Eddie vibrating inside his skin as he continues. Eddie’s going to have a nice hickey there in the morning though.

Continuing his quest along Eddie’s body, Richie moves lower, kissing and sucking a trail down his chest and stomach. By the time he reaches Eddie’s now hardening cock, Eddie’s a squirming mess. Each time Richie uses his teeth it elicits those delicious breathy moans that make Richie fully hard.

He drags his tongue down along Eddie’s hipbones and divot until he meets the soft hair at the base of Eddie’s cock. Richie softly nuzzles the area, inhaling Eddie’s scent before he wraps his lips around the swollen head.

“Ahh, yeah! Fuck!” Eddie breathes out, bucking slightly up into Richie’s mouth. While it’s a little awkward with his glasses still on it’s well worth it as Richie looks up through his lashes and can clearly see the pained look on Eddie’s face. Only pain is the farthest thing from what he’s causing.

Richie swirls his tongue around the head and takes as much as he can into his mouth. It’s not much, yet, but with more practice, Richie is determined to deep throat Eddie one day.

“Ah, ah, ah!” Eddie continues and reaches down to grip a handful of Richie’s curls in his hand. “So good.”

Fuck, Richie loves it when Eddie whines. With a long swipe of his tongue from base to tip, Richie laps up the salty precome. Eddie bucks his hips extra hard as his tongue glides over the slit.

“Fuuuuuck, Richie!” Eddie moans.

“That good for you, babe?” Richie asks with a hoarse voice.

“Oh fuck,” is all Eddie can reply breathlessly with. He looks down at Richie with half-lidded eyes; cheeks flushed dark red, and mouth open in a small ‘O’. Richie is fucking mesmerized.

He continues to spend some more time on Eddie’s cock before regretfully stopping. The way Eddie is whining and breathing means that he’s close and he doesn’t want him to blow before he’s inside him.

_Inside Eddie. Ohmyfuckingodwhatthehellthisisbeyondfuckinganything._

“Eddie?”

“Y-yeah?”

Richie takes a deep breath, his whole stomach in knots with nervous desire. “C-can you open your legs for me?”

“Oh,” Eddie says, that one little syllable contains so much emotion and lust that it’s incredible. A little hesitant Eddie obliges, slowly drawing up and widening his legs, pulling them up closer to his body so that Richie can move and position himself comfortably between them.

Richie nearly comes and goes into cardiac arrest simultaneously just at the amazing sight of Eddie lying there with his legs parted, baring everything for him. “Oh fuck, you are so beautiful,” Richie says with awe.

“Stop it,” Eddie says, biting his bottom lip and blushing darker than ever.

“No, Eds, seriously. If you could see what I see… I’m so goddamn lucky,” Richie says with a wobble in his voice. Fuck, if he starts to cry now it would ruin everything.

“So am I.”

Richie lunges upwards over Eddie’s body and kisses him hard enough to bruise. Eddie welcomes it, letting Richie claim his mouth in every way.

“Ready?” Richie asks, breaking apart from Eddie, panting.

“Yeah.” Eddie sounds almost drunk with lust.

This is it then, an act of love to take two separate souls and combine them as one for a brief time. Richie shifts his body down and kneels between Eddie’s legs. Reaching out, he strokes Eddie’s cock a few times and moves lower, ghosting his fingers over Eddie’s perineum and then over the tight muscle around his entrance.

Instinctually Eddie pulls away as Richie lightly touches him there. “Sorry,” he says with embarrassment.

“Don’t be!” Richie reassures. “We’ll take it slow, ‘kay? Just try and relax.”

Eddie nods a slightly nervous air about him now.

Richie reaches for the bottle of lube, now tangled up in the sheets shoved to the bottom of the bed. Snapping open the lid he pauses before coating one of his fingers. “Want me to use a condom or glove?” Knowing Eddie likes to keep things as hygienic as possible Richie wants to make this as easy for him as he can.

“I, uh…” Eddie pauses and Richie is surprised as he quickly turns to bury his face into the pillow.

Richie can’t help but laugh at his adorableness. “Fuck, you’re so cute! Really, Eds, it’s okay. Whatever you want.” He waits with a smile as Eddie comes to a decision.

“You don’t have to use those. I, uh, washed there earlier.” Eddie says, his voice growing quieter and quieter until it’s barely a whisper. He squirms a bit, avoiding Richie’s gaze.

_The fuck now?_

“Oh.” It’s as if a cinder block has just dropped on top of Richie’s head rendering him, well, brain dead. “Fuck, you’re amazing.”

“I don’t think—“

“Shush! Amazing!” Richie feels so much pride for Eddie right now. “Okay,” he says as he coats one finger with some lube. “Just relax and enjoy it. I’m gonna make you feel so good.”

“Okay,” Eddie says with a shaky breath.

Now there’s no turning back as Richie lowers his hand and gently begins to massage his finger with the lube around Eddie’s entrance. Eddie gasps; pulling back at first but soon relaxes enough as Richie continues his light caresses.

A low static fills Richie’s head as he massages the area. Fuck he’s really doing this; he’s really prepping Eddie so they can have penetrative sex. It’s something he’s dreamed about dozens of times, but to physically feel and see it is so much different than what he thought it would be. It’s so much more intimate and amazing, the feeling and responses Eddie’s body is giving him are beyond what Richie could ever have imagined.

Once he feels Eddie relax more he presses the tip of his finger to the entrance and gently pushes in.

“Ohhhfuuuuuck,” Eddie hisses in a rushed breath.

Richie waits a moment for Eddie to adjust. “That okay?”

“I—yeah, kinda weird but good.”

“Good. You’re doing so amazing,” Richie praises, loving the look that passes over Eddie’s face.

Loving his boyfriend more and more with each moment, Richie begins to slowly work Eddie open, slipping his finger in and out with care. The more he does the more Eddie begins to squirm and moan. An electric undercurrent in the air thickens, causing the atmosphere to change to a darker and needy one. The strong desire to enter Eddie and begin to fuck him hard fast hooks itself into Richie’s gut. The need to hear Eddie scream his name becomes so strong that Richie begins to pump his finger in faster.

Eddie begins to pant and moan with every thrust, obviously enjoying the sensations that Richie is making him feel.

Pulling out, Richie grabs the bottle of lube and applies more to his fingers. Pressing two fingers to Eddie’s entrance he pauses, waiting for Eddie’s mind to catch up. Slowly he presses both of them in.

“RICHIE!” Eddie yelps out.

Richie stops, not moving, heart seizing with fear that he’s hurt him. “You okay? Want me to stop?”

“N-no…” Eddie breathes. “Feels good.”

“Thank fuck,” Richie says with relief. He begins to move his fingers again working Eddie open even wider. It’s not long until Eddie starts to unravel more and more, begging Richie to go harder and faster as he fingers him.

“Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me,” Eddie pants, his litany of pleas causing that warm heat inside Richie to rise to a boil. The need to bury himself inside Eddie’s tightness skyrockets to an untold level.

“Do you want me—“

“Do it. Fuck me. Fill me,” Eddie groans out, pleading, his body flushed, a sheen of sweat covering his forehead and chest. Eddie’s eyes are wild with untold want, almost alien-looking with his pupils blown wide with lust. Richie looks down at Eddie’s cock and is pretty sure if he just touches it Eddie will be lost, coming long and hard. But that’s not what Eddie needs.

Randomly grabbing a box of condoms, Richie hastily opens it, pulling out and tearing off one of the foil-wrapped condoms from the others. Ripping the packet open, Richie places it over the head and rolls it up along his hard length. Taking the lube he begins to coat himself and has to use all his willpower to keep from coming just from that. Once he’s done that he proceeds to apply more lube to Eddie’s entrance.

“Ready?” Richie asks.

“Yeah.” Without prompting Eddie widens his legs and draws them up farther, holding them in position with his hands on his knees for Richie to have the most room.

Heart jackhammering inside his ribs, Richie holds his breath as he gets into position and places the head against Eddie’s entrance. An apprehension that he’ll hurt Eddie causes Richie to go slow as he presses in, breaching the tight muscle.

Eddie’s gasping and crying out but doesn’t ask him to stop. Richie pauses periodically letting Eddie adjust and checking to see if he’s okay. Eddie’s a babbling mess now, frenzied with everything happening to him, moaning that the all-consuming ache inside him hurts so much but in the best way possible as Richie goes deeper.

“Oh fuck,” Richie lets out with a low groan as he sinks fully inside Eddie. He never thought in a million years that it would feel this good, Eddie so hot and tight around him that he’s afraid to even breathe because he may lose it.

When he looks down at Eddie his face is more than wrecked, beyond desire and every rational emotion. Everything about Eddie is stripped down and laid out bare before Richie. The staggering realization that he is holding everything that is Eddie and what makes him incredible in his metaphorical hands right now releases something inside him so fierce with love and protection that he almost blacks out. Richie already knows he will do everything in his power to love and make Eddie happy, but he didn’t fully realize the sheer depth of those emotions until this very moment. He’d die for Eddie. He’d fight for Eddie. He’d do anything for Eddie because the love and devotion exploding inside him upon seeing Eddie in his rawest and most vulnerable state cannot be put into any words ever created.

Eddie shifts, wrapping his legs around Richie’s hips and locking him in place by hooking his ankles together.

“G-gonna start…” but Richie doesn’t finish, he doesn’t need to as Eddie gives him the barest hint of a nod. Richie places his hands on Eddie’s hips, adjusting him slightly for a better angle then leans over Eddie bracing himself on the mattress with his hands. Carefully Richie pulls back then slides in, followed by pulling out even further then sliding in a bit faster. The pressure, the heat, and the lewd as fuck noises Eddie is making have Richie too close to the edge. He’s not going to last long.

“Ah, ah, ah, ah,” Eddie gasps out, his forearm flung over his eyes as if everything is too much. “S’good. Fuck!”

Richie doesn’t realize how loud he’s panting and groaning, he’s too focused on trying not to come as he fucks Eddie. Everything is a fucking haze of noises and sensations.

He must have hit some sweet spot inside Eddie because he cries louder than ever, throwing his head back in ecstasy. The exposed part of Eddie’s neck makes Richie lean up and in, nearly folding Eddie in two as he does, but Eddie doesn’t seem to care as he throws his arms around Richie’s shoulders, his nails digging sharply into his skin. Before realizing it Richie has his teeth bared, ready to bite down on the bonding spot on Eddie’s neck.

“Oh fuuuck,” he moans, stopping his thrusting. Shame that he nearly came that close biting Eddie overtakes him even if every instinct inside him is screaming bloody murder at him to do otherwise.

“Do it,” Eddie whispers with a groan.

“W-what?”

“Bite me,” Eddie clarifies.

Richie hesitates, unwilling to answer. He wants to, so fucking badly, but legally he’d be in trouble. If he were reported that is.

“Do it,” Eddie gasps out, his breath hitching. “Do it. Bite me. Fuck me, Richie. Make me yours. Be my partner.”

“But Eds, your birthday is almost two weeks—“ Richie chokes out, his resolve crumbling with each syllable spoken. Without thinking he begins drawing out of Eddie again.

“I don’t, ahh, care.” Eddie claws with desperation into Richie’s back trying to bring them closer together. “I’ll hide it. Wear a fucking scarf or something.”

“In August?!” Richie bites out as he thrusts back inside Eddie.

“I don’t care. I don’t care, Richie.” Eddie is practically sobbing now with desperation. “We’ll find a way. I need you. I love you. I want to be yours. I want you to be mine.”

And fuck, how much Richie wants Eddie to be his and how much he wants to be Eddie’s. Richie stares into those wild and pleading eyes, still uncertain. “Eddie, I…”

“BITE ME, TOZIER OR I’M BREAKING UP WITH YOU!” Eddie almost shrieks as he arches his chest upward, practically shoving his neck under Richie’s nose.

All rational thought snaps and Richie is dragged to the raw depths of his nature, the alpha inside him bursting out and taking control. Quickly he shoves his glasses up onto his head to make what he’s about to do as seamless as possible. Pressing his lips to Eddie’s neck, Richie inhales that dizzyingly amazing scent of Eddie’s, sinking his teeth hard into the skin. While it’s not enough to draw blood it is enough that Eddie will be sporting one hell of a bruise there for the foreseeable future. An eerie quiet overcomes the two as he claims Eddie. Neither one of them move as they hold each other tight.

Richie doesn’t know what a hit of hard drugs feel like and he really doesn’t care to know, but he suspects that he may have an idea about what it’s like as an intense rush of adrenaline and dopamine flood every cell inside his body. The scope of love and adoration he has towards Eddie seems to increase a thousandfold as he bites down. He never knew that his whole being could expand even further to contain this magnitude of emotion for one person.

Instincts telling him that’s enough, Richie carefully lets go of Eddie’s neck. He begins to place soft kisses over to the already darkening skin where he’s marked him.

A sharp, loud gasp from Eddie breaks the eerie silence. His fingers dig even harder into Richie’s back, hard enough to draw blood. Richie doesn’t care as he continues to kiss and lick Eddie’s bonding spot.

The faintest whisper from Eddie caresses Richie’s hearing. “Oh, Richie.” And then he’s coming. Richie feels the wetness splattering his stomach as Eddie comes, shuddering breathless beneath him.

That’s enough to tip Richie over the edge as he lets the cresting wave of pleasure crash down over him and sweep him away. With a low hoarse groan, he comes inside Eddie, thrusting his hips disjointedly as he chases that high for as long as he can. Every orgasm with Eddie has been beyond amazing, but this one rips through every atom of his being, electricity crackling throughout him lighting everything up inside. The connection he and Eddie have now made seems to amplify everything. Tingling warmth radiates from his head to his toes.

The two hold each other shaking and gasping for breath as they float down from this incredible moment. It takes every ounce of strength for Richie to lean up while holding himself over Eddie as he unhooks his ankles from around him. All he wants to do is collapse and sleep. Eddie seems to be in similar shape as he shakily untangles himself from Richie.

Regretfully, Richie pulls out and Eddie groans at the loss of sensation. “Felt s’good,” Eddie comments with a slight slur to his words.

“Yeah, it fucking did,” Richie agrees, missing the feeling of being inside Eddie. 

Already Richie can smell the difference in Eddie’s scent with their bond. It’s no longer as heavy and musky, but lighter and mixed with something… mixed with him. A knot deep down in Richie’s soul comes undone with relief and pride now that Eddie will have a small part of Richie on him always. It will also diminish his scent to other alphas as an indicator that Eddie is bonded, which is a huge comfort for Richie. This amazing and wonderful guy is taken, no touchy.

His whole body protesting, Richie awkwardly gets off the bed to dispose of the condom then immediately climbs back in. They’re both too wrecked to even clean up properly, instead using a discarded towel from earlier to halfheartedly wipe off each other’s stomachs.

“This is so gross, I need a shower,” Eddie complains but with zero motivation behind it.

“Shower in the morning,” Richie yawns widely, snuggling into Eddie’s side. A weird sensation overtakes him as he wraps an arm around Eddie’s middle pulling him close. All his emotions are scattered and disjointed like they’re bits of confetti floating down from the air, but there’s something underneath those emotions poking at the edges of his heart. That’s when he realizes it’s Eddie; he feels the warmth and love radiating from Eddie’s heart into his. Their bond is complete, connecting them for life. It’s so overwhelming and beautiful Richie bursts into tears, clinging onto Eddie never wanting to let him go.

“I know, Rich. I feel it, too,” Eddie sniffles, tears starting to spill down his cheeks.

“I didn’t think it would be…” but words fail Richie, as he’s unable to verbalize what this feels like. But he doesn’t think he needs to because Eddie can feel it too. Their hearts and souls now connected in this beautiful bond that lets them share something incredibly special and strong.

The two hold each other, crying softly with all these powerful emotions buzzing brightly inside their souls until they fall into a peaceful and much needed deep sleep.


	13. Eddie, 17 years old

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eddie looks down at their hands together thinking about how to answer. Everything he feels now still can’t really be put into any kind of words. “I’m… good, Rich. Beyond anything really.” He bites his bottom lip surprised at the surge of emotion coming up inside him. “I feel you,” he says with a wobble to his voice and places his free hand to his chest, “in here. I feel you. Like everything is fucking bigger and lighter and… I feel you inside me, in my heart.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry for the length of time it took to post this chapter. Real-life threw me some unhappy stuff and I wasn't feeling up to it. I hope this makes up for the wait.

The tethers of deep sleep begin to snap away from Eddie’s mind as he slowly begins to wake. Everything is light and dreamlike, the quiet around him peaceful, almost lulling him immediately back to sleep before something shifts position beside him. This movement snaps Eddie to full wakefulness. Groggily he opens his eyes and squints in the early morning sunlight peeking through Richie’s bedroom window.

_Richie…_

The last few days and what transpired slams into Eddie like a freight train, momentarily stealing all the air from his lungs and causing his stomach to drop. Oh god, they… they did a lot. It’s with these new memories that Eddie is slowly becoming aware of the physical aches and how sore his body is. It also doesn’t help that he’s stuck at an odd angle with his arm flung up resting above his head on the pillow. Stiffly, he lifts his head and sees a large mop of wavy dark curls shoved up against his armpit and Richie’s sleeping face smushed up against the side of his chest. Eddie drops his head back down with a smile.

Lying there in the silence Eddie is struck by how full he feels inside. He felt it last night after Richie solidified their bond. All the love and feelings contained for Richie in his heart burst wide open as if allowing another heart to be placed beside his. Richie’s heart. Tears well up and Eddie begins to laugh a little at the euphoric feeling. They are bonded, truly bonded to each other now. Eddie never would have guessed it would feel this amazing.

He feels the peace within Richie as he sleeps, body pressed up against his. It’s not a psychic connection where they can read each other’s minds or anything supernatural of that nature, more of a connection of two hearts where Eddie will feel Richie within him and Richie the same. They’ll be able to sense each other and how they feel on a slightly higher level than regular people.

Wincing, Eddie tries to adjust his arm into a more comfortable position not wanting to wake Richie. He manages a better position and starts to brush his finger along a stray curl from Richie’s hair splayed out on the pillows. Richie seems to sense this in his sleep as he unconsciously nuzzles in closer to Eddie’s body.

As Eddie lies there he takes a quick inventory. That all-consuming ache that decided to come in uninvited and rudely shake up everything seems to have left as abruptly as it came along with that intense desperation for Richie to be there for him. Now everything has been levelled back onto an even playing field, which Eddie is more than fucking grateful for.

A wave of embarrassment hits him with the thoughts of how he felt and reacted to Richie even just going downstairs to get them food. Yes, it is a symptom of being in heat and natural so he shouldn’t be ashamed, but still, it’s the principle of the thing. He can handle Richie going downstairs for food without losing his shit, dammit!

Eddie’s also aware of just how desperately he needs a shower, his skin feels dirty and sticky from their activities. And laundry. Definitely laundry. The thought of the state in which the sheets and other things they’re lying on right now begin to give Eddie that crawling sensation of being covered in bugs or something else equally as creepy.

He reaches out over to Richie’s bedside table for his phone, fumbling to unlock it. Ignoring the missed calls and texts from his mom, he notes that it’s barely past six in the morning. Ugh, too early to get up and do laundry. He’s still so exhausted from the past couple of days, his body craving sleep. But he also needs to get clean otherwise the consuming thoughts of all that dried sweat and other stuff still clinging to his skin will give him anxiety. 

A wet sensation on Eddie’s side takes his attention away from his creepy-crawly dirty feeling. Looking at Richie closely, Eddie wonders if he’s somehow crying while he sleeps, but he can’t see any tears. That’s when he notices Richie’s mouth slightly ajar and the drool coming from it.

Richie is drooling on him.

While it is true that Richie has done a hell of a lot worse and intimate things—the sudden memory of Richie fingering him open makes his heart skip a few beats—over the past couple of days, this causes that unclean feeling in Eddie to dial up to eleven. Shower. Now.

Groaning as he shifts his stiff body, Eddie tries to peel himself away from a sleeping Richie as best he can without waking him. It begins with some success until Richie throws an arm around his waist with a little snore.

“For fucks sake, Richie,” Eddie huffs in bemusement. He pauses to stare at his boyfriend lovingly, all awkward and sharp angles, spread out across the bed in a gangly pretzel position. Wrapping a hand around Richie’s wrist he begins to slowly remove Richie’s arm from his waist. It almost works until Richie throws his arm back over Eddie.

“Dun leavmesg’eddie,” Richie mumbles sleepily. He cracks open an eye, looking at Eddie or as much as Eddie as he can make out.

“I gotta go shower,” Eddie says softly, once again placing his hand on Richie’s wrist to move his arm away. Although it proves a bit more difficult now that Richie is back online.

“Stay and cuddle,” Richie whines, his voice rough from sleep.

“Rich, I feel disgusting. I need a shower.” Eddie leans over, kissing Richie on the top of the head.

“What time is it?”

“Just after six.”

“And you want to shower _NOW_?” The sheer indignity of showering so early seems to wake Richie up for good. Leaning up, Richie props himself on his elbows as he stares at Eddie blearily.

Richie all sleepy and rumpled without his glasses causes Eddie’s heart to pound harder with how adorable he looks. Fuck, he feels so lucky right now.

“Yeah, asshole, I can’t stand myself,” Eddie snaps back light-heartedly, shifting up and escaping the Richie kraken’s arm that tries to reel him back in as he gets out of bed. Legs feeling heavy like lead, Eddie takes a few staggering steps to loosen them up.

Richie fumbles around the bed looking for his glasses with little success.

“Here,” Eddie says, handing Richie his glasses that he took off and placed on the bedside table like a normal human being for Richie last night.

“Thanks!” Richie says brightly, shoving the glasses on his nose. He blinks as his eyes adjust, looking at Eddie. The biggest smile appears on his face, hugely magnified eyes sparkling with happiness. “Good morning to my amazing as fuck boyfriend!”

Blushing, Eddie looks away trying to hide his smile. “Thanks. Good morning to my amazing as fuck boyfriend, too.”

“And good morning you, Little Eddie!” Richie lowers his gaze and waggles his eyebrows at Eddie’s dick.

“Oh my fucking god, Richie!” Eddie yelps, covering himself with both his hands. He was feeling fine about being naked in front of Richie until now. “If you ever fucking say that again I will fuckin—“

“What? What will you do, Eds? We’re bonded now.” The happy smug smile Richie gives him makes Eddie want to scream with frustration because of how much he loves him.

“Ugh, I don’t know, but don’t fucking do that again!” Eddie scowls, trying not to break and begin laughing. He has to show some kind of resolve.

“Sure thing, Eds,” Richie totally lies. His tone shifts as he becomes more serious. Reaching out he lightly grabs Eddie’s hand. “How’re you feeling, though? You okay, like really?”

Eddie looks down at their hands together thinking about how to answer. Everything he feels now still can’t really be put into any kind of words. “I’m… good, Rich. Beyond anything really.” He bites his bottom lip surprised at the surge of emotion coming up inside him. “I feel you,” he says with a wobble to his voice and places his free hand to his chest, “in here. I feel you. Like everything is fucking bigger and lighter and… I feel you inside me, in my heart.” It’s lame and sappy as fuck the way he tries to explain it, but that’s all he can manage.

Richie shifts up and sits on the edge of the bed, not letting go of Eddie’s hand. “I feel the same,” he says, his voice equally emotional. Standing up he softly takes Eddie’s hand and places it on his chest. Richie then presses his hand against Eddie’s chest, over his heart. “We’re fucking in here forever as goddamn sappy as that sounds,” Richie laughs wetly. “You’re the best fucking thing ever, Eds.”

“Richie…” Eddie begins but doesn’t get anything more out as Richie leans down to kiss him. They kiss slow and soft, the heat and desperation that fuelled both of them just a short while ago gone for the time being. To Eddie, it feels like warm sunshine after a storm, crisp and clear and more than welcome. Even with the morning breath.

Warm contentment wraps around Eddie like an old familiar blanket. He sighs, wishing this moment would last forever.

“Let’s go back to bed,” Richie murmurs between soft kisses.

The thought of lying in Richie’s bed in his and the bed’s current state makes Eddie want to gag. “After I shower and maybe laundry.”

Richie groans pathetically. “But it’s so eaaaarly. I need sleep to recover from the fuck-a-thon.”

“Please, don’t call it that.” Eddie rolls his eyes smiling with amusement.

“I don’t care, I’m so tired,” Richie huffs like a petulant child.

“I’m going to shower so you can either go back to sleep or…” Eddie trails off, thinking.

_The image of Richie standing under the showerhead, water running down his hair, plastering wet curls to his skin, and Eddie there with him, slowly brushing those wet curls off his forehead flood his mind._

“Or?”

“Or you can join me.” The desire to see Richie like that from his fantasy emboldens him.

“Um, yeah. Fuck yeah!” Richie breathes, eyes going wide with surprise.

“Yeah?”

“Absofuckinglutly!” Richie grins, but it’s quickly replaced by an awkward smile. Scratching his head he looks down at his feet almost shyly. “But, um, this may be hard to believe but…”

“You’re not in the mood?” Eddie chuckles.

Richie visibly relaxes. “Yeah, I think you took everything outta me. Not that you’re not totally fuckable twenty-four-seven, but I need like, five to ten more business hours before anything more.”

“It’s okay, Rich,” Eddie says with understanding. “I feel the same.”

“Fuck, I love you.”

“I love you, too,” Eddie laughs; taking Richie’s hand he leads him out of the room.

As Richie goes to get towels, Eddie enters the bathroom, switching on the light. He looks at himself in the mirror freezing in shock. Tired brown eyes with dark circles underneath stare back at him with as much exhaustion as he feels on the inside. His hair is a chaotic mess more akin to Richie’s than his usual well-styled look. But what really takes his breath away is the very large bruise the size of a small lemon on the side of his neck where Richie bit him. The kaleidoscopes of colours on his skin are the only visible indication of their bond. Lightly, Eddie brushes his fingers around the area causing goosebumps from the thrill of seeing their connection physically present.

“You okay?” Richie asks him as he comes in with some fresh towels for them.

“Mmm? Yeah, just took me by surprise.”

Richie places his hands on his shoulders, staring at Eddie’s reflection in the mirror. “Looks good on you.” He drops a soft kiss onto Eddie’s shoulder.

A fluttery feeling takes hold inside him, causing him to feel light and almost dizzy with how much this mark means to him. He feels renewed almost like the slate has been wiped clean, he’s no longer Eddie Kaspbrak, Sonia Kaspbrak’s son, but Eddie Kaspbrak. Eddie Kaspbrak and his boyfriend, Richie Tozier.

“It does,” Eddie muses to himself.

Richie turns on the water to warm up while Eddie brushes his teeth; grateful that Mr Tozier’s job always means extra new toothbrushes at their disposal. He watches Richie in the mirror as he stretches and yawns wide enough to fit an entire F15 jet plane inside his mouth. He follows this by lazily scratching under his arm, blinking tiredly.

Catching Eddie staring at him in the mirror, Richie gives him a lopsided grin. “Whatcha lookin’ at?” He teases.

“Nothing,” Eddie teases back, blushing a little. He feels lighter than air; still in that euphoric bubble of near disbelief that this is now his life and he gets to share it and all that entails with Richie. A genuine and almost electric excitement pulses through him at the thought of his future. The oppressive looming shade of his mom seems to dissolve with an angry shrill death cry. For the first time, Eddie feels like he can breathe, truly breathe because he now knows what good and unselfish love feels like. The love from Richie gives him wings, full and strong; to help lift him up and offer him the unlimited possibilities life has to offer. A lump catches in Eddie’s throat with all these good intense emotions.

“Okay there, Eds?” Richie asks softly, his eyes full of warmth and understanding.

Eddie knows he’s experiencing similar emotions not only from the soft look of happiness written all over Richie’s tired features but because of their bond and the connection radiating between them. “Yeah, just happy.”

“Me too,” Richie replies, reaching out and taking Eddie’s hand.

Placing his hand in Richie’s, Eddie happily follows him into the shower.

_A couple of minutes later..._

“Fucking hell, Rich, you’re in the shower, take off your goddamn glasses!”

“No way! Then I won’t be able to see you!”

“You can’t see shit with them all fogged up and wet like that!”

“Excuse you, Eds, I totally can.”

“How many fingers am I holding up?”

“Uhmmm, three?”

“Only one, dumbass.”

The two stand in the doorway of Richie’s bedroom wordlessly staring at the carnage spread around from the past two days. Eddie didn’t register the level of disaster before, but now that he’s freshly showered and clean he wants to cringe. Pizza boxes, empty drink bottles, and other empty food items along with clothing, towels, and half of Richie’s bed are littered around the floor. Richie’s bed is a mess with the sheets tangled up and mattress askew on the bedframe. A bit of a smug pride creeps inside Eddie as he notes that detail. But the thought of lying down in that bed right now makes his skin crawl again. Laundry and a change of everything definitely need to be done before he can lie back down there.

“Uhhhh…” Richie begins, unable to finish his train of thought.

“Yeah,” Eddie agrees.

Richie lets out another jaw cracking yawn. The towel he has wrapped around his hair nearly falls off as his jaw unhinges. “Eds, doing laundry now would be a hate crime. I’m so fucking tired.”

As much as Eddie wants to march downstairs with all the dirty sheets and other things to make up Richie’s bed so they can get more rest, he has to admit that he feels the same. His whole body feels heavy like lead and he doubts he could make it down and back up the stairs even without a laundry basket. The shower took all the little remaining energy out of him. Sleep is aggressively tapping at his shoulder trying to get his attention.

“Guest room?” Eddie suggests. At least there’s clean bedding in there.

“Guest room.” Richie nods in agreement, pulling the towel off his head letting it drop to the floor.

Before heading down the hall to the guest bedroom, Eddie goes to Richie’s closet randomly selecting a t-shirt and pulling it on. A little thrill runs through him as the hem of it brushes against his upper thighs. Something about wearing Richie’s clothing makes the area inside his heart longing to be cared for by someone bloom with contentment. The power of this simple article of clothing against his skin makes Eddie feel loved and protected.

Apparently Richie feels the same, as he looks Eddie up and down, lightly biting his bottom lip and fidgeting almost in anticipation for something.

“I’m borrowing this,” Eddie states the obvious.

“Eddie, babe, you can have it.” Richie continues to stare at him with a loving yet predatory gaze.

Eddie doesn’t miss the way Richie keeps eyeing him up and down, with his eyes pausing where the hem of the shirt meets his thighs. “Mmm, we’ll see,” Eddie hums coyly. He grabs his phone from the bedside table and walks out of the room as Richie hastily pulls on a pair of boxer shorts.

The guest room is a welcome relief from the chaos left behind in Richie’s room. The furniture isn’t askew, bed sheets and pillows are clean, and it smells fresh. Richie groans as he flops over, stretching out on the bed, his damp hair splayed out on the pillow. Normally Eddie would prefer not to sleep with damp hair, but he’s too damn tired to care.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, Eddie pulls up the email app on his phone and begins typing.

“Mmm, lie down, Spagheddie,” Richie says drowsily.

“In a sec,” Eddie says distractedly.

“Who you messaging?”

“Isabelle.”

“Your therapist? Why?” Richie sounds confused.

Quickly finishing the email, Eddie hits send. A small knot in his stomach twists with anxiety with what she’ll say about it all, but Eddie knows he can trust her. He’s told her a lot of things about Richie and their relationship. Definitely not the nitty-gritty, but enough that Isabelle knows what is going on and their plans for the future.

Eddie slips into bed beside Richie, lying on his side facing him. Richie’s taken off his glasses and Eddie smiles softly, looking at those beautiful brown eyes in their natural gorgeousness.

“Eds?” Richie frowns a bit.

“I told her what happened.”

“Oh?” Richie sounds a bit surprised. “Okay, good?”

“I want her to help me break the news to my mom.” That knot of anxiety begins to grow larger. He can’t go back home like this but he also can’t avoid his mom for the next two weeks before leaving for New York. For the past several days she’s been told that he’s been at Bill’s.

“Whatever you want, but really she doesn’t deserve to have her fucking hand held through this,” Richie says softly, placing his hand on Eddie’s neck over the bruise, gently rubbing his thumb over it.

Sighing, Eddie closes his eyes with contentment under Richie’s touch. “No, she doesn’t. But I do.” A fierce determination leaps up inside Eddie’s chest. “I don’t want her to freak out and do something, like report you. I know Isabelle won’t, but my mom…”

“Fuck, you’re right,” Richie breathes out with the realization that things could get super messy once Eddie’s mom is told everything. “Good thinking. Is there anything I can do to help? Do you want me to come with you?”

A lump forms in Eddie’s throat with Richie’s offer touched and relieved that he has him for unconditional support. “I dunno, I guess I’ll see what Isabelle says, but I’ll definitely need you after.” His voice cracks a bit on the last couple of words. Warring emotions pull at him from all directions inside.

Richie pulls him in close against his chest, wrapping his arms tight around Eddie. The warmth radiating from Richie and skin-to-skin contact immediately quell the worst of those negative feelings inside him. 

“Whatever you need I’ll fuckin’ do it.” Richie kisses Eddie’s forehead tenderly.

“I love you,” Eddie says quietly; sleep beginning to drag him down. Inhaling he can smell the fresh soap and the underlying natural scent of Richie. It’s a bit different now that they’re bonded, Eddie notes, happily. Something just for him.

“I love you, too.”

They hold each other, not saying anything more, content to just to be close to each other. Within minutes they’re both asleep, each with a smile on their face.

_The next day_

Eddie looks around his bedroom feeling overwhelmed with the events of the past few hours and what he has to do now. Opening his closet he pulls out his duffle bag and begins to throw clothing and other items inside it. Blinking back tears he’s hit with the sudden realization that he most likely won’t sleep in his room ever again.

Yesterday after they got more needed sleep Eddie talked with his therapist about how best to proceed with the unpredicted turn of events. Nearly breaking down with relief that Isabelle wasn’t judging him for what happened, Eddie and her devised a plan to break the news to his mom. They would meet at her office and discuss the situation diffusing the worst his mom has to offer and also to protect Eddie and Richie. Reporting Richie would do a lot more harm than good even though Eddie is still technically underage by almost two weeks according to law.

Richie, desperate to help Eddie, understood when he told him that he should stay out of it until his mom has time to digest what happened. It would be easier this way for all of them.

The appointment with his mom was intense, to put it mildly. At one point while telling her what was going on Eddie was afraid he genuinely broke her because she was so quiet, something his mom definitely isn’t. It wasn’t until she quietly asked whom he bonded with and Eddie telling her, she broke down completely and began to wail and cry about her baby being gay, and betraying and abandoning her. Eddie couldn’t have been more grateful that Isabelle cleared her entire schedule on such short notice because this would take a while.

Eddie laid himself out for her, his real self with no more barriers and secrets, now all he can do is wait. He does feel for his mom, his great big heart too full of love not to, but part of him feels detached now. His mom will always be his mom and he will love her forever, but what that love will turn into now depends on how she will deal with Eddie being who he really is and not the Eddie she manipulated into for her own comfort and approval. Right now he needs space, which is why he’s hastily packing a bag and going to stay with Richie.

He sends Richie a text: _can you come and get me? Like right now?_

Richie: _gimme 30 seconds_

Eddie: _thanks_

Relief that Richie will be here soon helps lessen the anxiety inside him. Standing in front of his closet, Eddie pulls several shirts off hangars when his phone buzzes again.

Richie: _I’m here!_

What the hell? Frowning, Eddie rereads the message thinking he must have misread. He replies, hoping Richie hasn’t broken some kind of space/time continuum laws of the universe: _WTF Rich?_

Richie: _been parked around the corner since u got home_

Eddie’s heart nearly bursts with love. As soon as the appointment ended he told Richie he was heading home and would talk to him when he got there. But Richie, his adorkable, loving Richie, knew better and came to wait for him. Tears begin to fall on his cheeks as the overwhelming love mixed with sadness becomes too much.

Eddie: _thanks. I’ll be down in a few._

Richie: _u need any help? Or will I be murdered on sight?_

Eddie: _definitely murdered on sight. She’s in the kitchen crying and cursing your name._

Richie: _k. def staying out here then._

Eddie: _yeah, I’d like to have you around a few more years_

Richie: _awwwww babe ;)_

Eddie finishes packing as much as he can for now. He can always come back for anything he needs, plus he’ll have to come back and pack for university. Only two more weeks before they leave, it almost feels surreal.

Slinging his backpack with his laptop inside over his shoulder and grabbing his duffle bag, he takes a deep breath. His mom has been in the kitchen crying since they got home almost an hour ago. Slowly, Eddie descends the staircase, turning the corner at the bottom to enter the kitchen. What he sees pulls at that familiar urge to make the situation better for his mom, to make sure she isn’t sad or hurt or angry. That kneejerk reaction to swallow his own happiness and shove what he wants deep down inside him adds to the resolve for him to leave. It’s hard to unlearn what has been taught to you your entire life, but Eddie’s trying his best to do exactly that with the help of Richie, his friends, and therapy. At least he can recognize it now rather than let all of it drag him down blindly into a life he doesn’t want. The thought of bonding with someone only because his mother approved of them sends a cold chill of uneasiness down his spine.

Clearing his throat, Eddie stands there in the doorway. “I’m… I’m going now.”

No reply, it’s silent except for his mom’s wet and congested breathing. She won’t even look at him.

A wave of low simmering anger begins inside Eddie. Yeah, his mom has had a rough go of it and it’s been hard for her, but even now he knows she’s using the silent treatment to try and bait him into… something. Staying maybe? Forgiving her? Eddie doesn’t know, but what he does know is that if his mom can’t even be happy for him for finding love—true love—then that’s something she will have to work through. If she wants Eddie to stay a large part of her life she’ll have to work through her trauma and toxic beliefs.

“You know where I’ll be,” he says a bit lamely. What more is there to say? He’s said it all to her over the past few months and today in therapy. Surprised by the intense surge of sadness inside of him, Eddie chokes out, “I love you, mom.” Turning, he fights back fresh tears as he leaves. The soft sounds of sniffling and crying follow him out the front door. As the door shuts behind him Eddie feels like the final swing of an axe has fallen, severing something between the two of them forever. Part of him wants to mourn, part of him feels completely numb to it.

Looking up, Eddie spots Richie sitting in his mom’s blue sedan drumming his fingers on the steering wheel and swaying his head back and forth to whatever music he’s listening to at the moment. Brightness fills Eddie’s soul as he moves down the front steps into the late afternoon sunlight, the darkness of Eddie’s childhood fading in the face of happiness and hope for the future.

Richie spots Eddie coming down the walkway, quickly getting out of the car and coming around to grab Eddie’s duffle bag.

“Hey,” Richie says fondly. Leaning down he gives Eddie a quick kiss on the lips.

“Hey back,” Eddie says softly.

Richie gently tosses his duffle bag and backpack (Eddie smiles to himself that Richie is actually respecting his belongings) into the backseat. Turning back to Eddie, Richie freezes, his whole body tensing up and eyes going wide as he looks at something past Eddie’s shoulder.

Eddie turns, already sure of what has Richie spooked so suddenly. His mom is standing on the porch staring at the two of them with a blank expression on her face.

“Um, you don’t own any shotguns do ya, Eds?” Richie whispers loudly, trying not to move a muscle.

Eddie blinks and lets out a small laugh. “No, you’re safe.”

“Wonderful.” But Richie still stays stock still as if caught in a tractor beam.

Eddie looks at his mom for a moment before raising his hand a bit in a small wave of farewell. She doesn’t react to it that he can tell, but who cares. Reaching for the passenger door handle Eddie pauses. Richie still hasn’t moved.

“Um, Rich?”

“If I move will she see me?” Richie’s eyes comically dart back and forth to him and his mom. “Like, does movement trigger her or something? I’m not as sexy as Jeff Goldblum, I’ll never survive.”

“Oh my fucking god, Richie!” Eddie laughs, real and true. “Get in the car you nerd.”

“Okay.” Richie quickly darts behind the car and to the driver’s side door.

Smirking, Eddie gets in and does up his seatbelt. Richie practically dives in with a flurry of gangly limbs. He slams the door shut and lets out the breath he was holding.

“Made it,” Richie says a bit dazed.

“You’re insane.”

“Yeah, but I’m your kinda insane.” Richie grins, starting the car.

Eddie hums a little in answer, looking back to the front porch. His mom is still standing there like a lone and dark sentinel unable to leave their post, imprisoned in a kind of darkness of their own making. He watches her as Richie pulls away driving down the street. The small child in him is screaming at him to go back, he wants his mom, but he can’t, he won’t. This isn’t his life anymore; his life is beside him and down the roads unseen.

Richie drops his duffle bag with a soft thud in the entryway of his home. Turning he wraps Eddie up in a big hug, lifting him off his feet.

“Proud of you, Spagheddie,” Richie murmurs in his ear.

“Thanks, Richie.” Eddie clings on to Richie’s broad shoulders as he squeezes him tight. The pressure and warmth around him from Richie eases his aching heart. It’s been one hell of a day, to put it mildly.

“Hungry?” Richie asks as he puts Eddie down.

Eddie realizes he hasn’t eaten since breakfast. “Yeah. You didn’t eat the rest of the Chinese food did you?”

“Nope, still plenty of sweet and sour chicken for my sweet and sour guy.” Richie teases as they enter the kitchen.

They pull out the leftovers from the fridge and shove as many containers as they can in the microwave to reheat.

“Mmhf, we gotta go grocery shopping tomorrow,” Richie says as he licks plum sauce off his fingers from the piece of spring roll he just inhaled. “Mom sent me money to stock up before they get home tomorrow night, so we get to be all domestic and shit.”

A small wave of guilt hits Eddie at the mention of Richie’s mom. “They’re okay with me staying? I know it’s short notice, but I…” Eddie trails off feeling embarrassed.

“Dude,” Richie dramatically raises an eyebrow at him, “mom and dad are fucking fine with it, you don’t have to think twice, this is your home now. Mom can’t shut up with how excited she is to have another son to take care of.”

The words punch Eddie harder than a Muay Thai kick to the chest. All breath is obliterated from his lungs causing him to bend over gulping desperately for air. Every emotion he has experienced today hurls itself at him all at once with such intensity and no care for his sanity.

“Oh shit! Fuck, Eds! Fuck, fuck, fuck!” Richie’s panicked voice barely registers to him.

Strong hands hold Eddie as he begins to tremble with the emotional shock. Seconds later a sob escapes his throat, letting some that trauma and pain deep within escape under the absolute crushing weight on his chest, like lancing a wound. Everything is too much for Eddie, but the thing at the forefront of his mind is what Richie’s just said.

_Another son._

“Hey, hey, hey,” Richie soothes, wrapping an arm around Eddie to hold him against him. Gently he guides them both down to sit on the kitchen floor leaning back against the cabinets. “It’s okay, I got you.”

“Di-did she really s-say that?” Eddie chokes out wetly, his breath catching in his throat. Panic sinks its teeth into him. He doesn’t think he could handle it if what Richie said wasn’t true.

“What? Oh!” Richie now understands. “Yeah, she did, Eds. You’re pretty much her adopted son now. Have been for a while.” Richie’s voice is calm and soothing, easing the ache deep inside Eddie’s heart. “You’ve always been family, Spagheddie, now it’s just official. Not only are you stuck with me but also you’re stuck with my mom and dad. My condolences.” He squeezes Eddie close to him.

Eddie is dizzy with thoughts, barely able to grasp that Richie’s mom considers him a son. Richie’s mom who has been nothing but lovely and kind and supportive to him all his life, basically what a mother should be, loves him. Realizing the contrast between her and his own mother sends another wave of emotions through Eddie, causing him to curl into Richie’s side and cry hard into his neck.

Richie holds him close, allowing Eddie the all the time to get all these toxic and overwhelming emotions out of him. “Let it out, Eds. I have you.”

What seems like forever passes before Eddie is all cried out. Pulling away from Richie he notes the large wet spot on his shoulder. “Ew. Sorry about that,” Eddie sniffles, laughing a bit weakly.

“Dude, it’s okay.”

“Yeah, but still,” Eddie shrugs, slightly embarrassed. Studying Richie’s face Eddie is surprised and touched to see dried tear tracks on Richie’s cheeks. Softly he cups his hand on the side of Richie’s face, rubbing a thumb slowly over the mark. Richie smiles lovingly back at him. “Fuck, some boyfriend I am.”

“Um, excuse me but you’ve had a pretty fucking heavy day. I think you earned a good cry. How’re you feeling?”

Eddie sits there for a moment as he takes an emotional inventory. Everything is muted and not as sharp, claws no longer scratching at the trauma and pain from earlier today and the past, well, forever. That hollowed-out shell of a human being feeling after a good cry is filled with only one thing: love.

“Better. Lighter. I dunno. What you said fucking got to me.”

“I mean I kinda feel bad that it did, but also not. If that makes sense,” Richie says, scrunching up his nose as if trying to figure out that sentiment as well.

“It does.” Eddie sighs, leaning his head back against the kitchen cabinet suddenly feeling very tired. Richie places his hand gently on his thigh. Eddie takes it, lacing their fingers together. An overwhelming sense of peace settles over him leaving him oddly serene after all that he’s been through in such a short period of time.

A growl from Eddie’s stomach breaks the silence.

“Down boy,” Richie teases.

“Uuuugh. Food now.” Eddie grimaces, looking at Richie.

“Let’s get my Eds fed.” Richie gets up from the kitchen floor, pulling Eddie up by the arms. Wrapping his arms around him, Richie kisses Eddie softly, pulling him into a tight hug.

Eddie lays his head against Richie’s shoulder shutting his eyes, relishing the sensation of Richie’s solid body against his. Eddie doesn’t consider himself overly spiritual, but the strong pang of gratitude to the universe for giving him Richie as his bonded partner and a source of strength encompasses his thoughts. He truly feels at home in Richie’s arms now, safe and secure. It’s with those thoughts the remaining lingering feelings for his old home fade into something that only memory will hold for him.

“You’re so fucking badass,” Richie murmurs into his hair.

Eddie snorts in amusement. “Yeah, right.”

“Fuck yes! You stood up to your mom today and fucking told her who you are with no fucks given. That takes some serious guts; I’d be shitting myself if I were in your place. You’re the bravest fucking person I know and this is the hill I will die on.”

The fluttery sensations of embarrassment mixed with pride turn over in Eddie’s stomach. “Couldn’t have done it without you.” Looking up at Richie, Eddie smiles. “Love you.”

“Love you more,” Richie says, pressing a quick kiss to Eddie’s mouth.

The two re-reheat the leftover food and set up camp in the family room. Eddie makes sure to bring extra napkins as Richie and chopsticks aren’t exactly a match made in heaven.

Sitting down on the couch, Eddie leans against Richie as he dives into the leftover sweet and sour chicken.

“Whaddya want to watch?” Richie asks as he turns on the TV.

Eddie shrugs, chewing his food, his stomach grateful to finally be fed something. Swallowing, he picks up another piece of chicken with his chopsticks. “I dunno, something light. I’m pretty tired.”

“Something light for my strong man,” Richie begins to flick through the video streaming services on the TV. “You wanna have a nap after?”

“Mmmph,” Eddie hums as he finishes chewing. “Maybe. Just wanna eat right now.”

Reaching for his glass of Cherry Coke (he realizes with a small thrill that he can eat and drink whatever he wants now), he’s a bit surprised as the opening for _Monsters University_ begins to play with a small Mike Wazowski exiting the school bus.

“This?” Eddie looks at Richie, amused.

“Hells yeah! What’s lighter than Pixar? Well, some Pixar. Also, I wanna get an edge on how university will be for us!” Richie grins, dramatically popping the rest of his egg roll into his mouth.

“I dunno if it’ll be exactly like that,” Eddie muses, “but I know with you and the guys it’ll be just as good.”

“Aww, babe, you’re making me feel things.”

“Loser,” Eddie laughs, nudging his shoulder against Richie’s.

Richie nudges back in kind. “Takes one to know one.”

They continue to eat, enjoying the movie and laughing with each other. Eddie doesn’t remember feeling this relaxed in a long time, letting all his barriers and worries go knowing he is with someone who accepts him for everything that he is and not someone he’ll never be.

Finishing their meal, Richie throws an arm around Eddie’s shoulders and he settles in against him, slotting perfectly against Richie’s body. Resting his head on Richie’s shoulder Eddie is soon asleep, dreaming of the future they will have together.


	14. Richie, 18 years old

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first time he met Eddie he felt something shift inside him, like Eddie slotted in perfectly alongside him and the two other friends he made that first day of first grade. But there was always this little tug in his chest, like a string that connected only him and Eddie more so than Stan or Bill. Of course, Richie had no clue what that meant or would mean for many years, but it’s always been there.

The last week and a half have been a blur for Richie and Eddie. On top of being newly bonded and Pandora's box of horniness unlocked, they’re packing up and leaving for New York. It hasn’t been easy navigating their new bond while still living at home that’s for sure. The intense desire for Richie to pounce on Eddie happens at any given moment. Translation: every waking moment that he has. Thank fuck his parents went back to work so they have an intimate nine to five work schedule to get as much as they can out of each other.

Richie was not expecting Eddie to become the total horndog he is now. Eddie wasn’t either, surprised with how eager he is to be touched and needing to touch Richie all the time. Neither of them is complaining except when they have to hang around Richie’s parents or the other Losers and the only thing going around in their minds is sucking the other off. The Losers have threatened on more than one occasion that they’ll break out the water guns from Eddie’s party last year. Mike said he knew where he could borrow a cattle prod as reinforcement.

At least when they move they’ll have their own space and uninterrupted time to have sex whenever they’re not in class or at work. The dorm room they have is on the top floor in one of the student housing buildings, so they can afford to be a little noisier or so Richie hopes. RIP to the students who will live underneath and next to them.

Stan is grateful that his dorm is in the building next to theirs so he can comfortably live his university life without the trauma of hearing two of his best friends get it on all the time.

Besides trying to keep their new bond in check, it’s been non-stop planning, packing, and shopping. One day Richie’s mom steals Eddie to go shopping with her alone. Eddie was terrified at first and so was Richie on a small level, but all she wanted was to spend some time alone with Eddie to get to know him a little better outside of the world of Richie. She also wanted to figure out what bedding and other minor décor elements that would suit both Eddie and Richie. If it were up to Richie he’d probably pick out _Star Wars_ bedsheets and a _Transformers_ table lamp.

“What the hell is this?” Richie asks mildly insulted as he looks at the new bedding his mom and Eddie picked out.

“It’s for our bed, dipshit,” Eddie deadpans.

“I can read, Eds, but it’s so…”

“Lame?”

“Kinda, yeah.” Richie pouts a little. It’s not the worst he’s ever seen, there are some fun colours in a weird geometric pattern, thankfully no flowers to be found, but it doesn’t fully scream ‘Richie’.

“Here,” Eddie says, tossing Richie a bag, biting his lip a little to keep from smiling too wide.

Reaching into the bag Richie pulls out a package of new pillowcases and sheets. Turning the package over he gasps in delight as he sees the pattern of stars and the _Millennium Falcon_ printed on the fabric inside.

“FUCK YEAH, _STAR WARS_!” Richie bounces delightedly on his feet. This is more like it!

“Your mom said we’d need a spare set of sheets so I picked those out,” Eddie says, looking down at the ground blushing with slight embarrassment. “So yeah, figured you’d enjoy those.”

“Dude, I would have slept on stacks of newspaper if that’s what you wanted!” Richie laughs as Eddie’s quickly turns from happy embarrassment to ‘why the fuck would I ever do that?’ He hops over to Eddie and begins peppering his face with kisses as Eddie squirms and tries to get away but never seems to succeed. Hmm, wonder why?

“Richie!” Eddie laughs, playfully trying to push him away.

“Thanks, Spagheddie,” Richie gushes. “You’re the best!”

_Star Wars_ bedding acquired, Richie begins planning what to take with him. Obviously not much since their room will be small, but damned if he’s not taking some of his stuff with him. Eddie’s doing the same, already picking out a couple of his favourite model cars and other items.

Eddie’s already been back to his mom’s several times since the day he sat her down telling her everything. Richie came with him each time, helping him take over some boxes and packing some stuff. As hard as it is to keep his mouth shut around Mrs Kaspbrak Richie does, not wanting to rock the boat for Eddie’s sake. Every time he’s in her presence he feels the hard glare from her as if she is somehow trying to banish him to Siberia or somewhere just as bad. Thank fuck she doesn’t have laser eyes otherwise he’d be literal toast.

He’s been so proud of Eddie, the way he’s been holding up and dealing with all this family bullshit drama. There are very large cracks that still need to be filled, but only time will help fill those for Eddie. And Richie will be there by his side for whatever he needs.

A couple of days before they’re set to leave his mom and dad surprise him by handing over their credit card. Richie asks if aliens have replaced them and do they know how dangerous it is to do this, but they brush it off with a laugh. They want to treat Eddie and him to a date night with dinner and a movie. Touched that his mom and dad are doing this for them Richie accepts, but a small something inside his gut tells him that there’s more to it.

He’s right as they come home from their date shocked to find Eddie’s mom in her car pulling out of his driveway. His parents invited her over for dinner to talk about the whole situation and how to move forward. After all, they’re family now, even if that means a Grand Canyon size amount of baggage being brought with them. Eddie immediately begins to panic, thinking the worst, but Mr and Mrs Tozier quickly help put Eddie’s mind at ease. All they wanted was to make peace with Sonia and let her know that she is welcome in their lives and what an amazing young man he is.

Richie doesn’t miss the way his mom and dad’s smiles are a little too tight with some of the things they go over with him and Eddie. Richie cannot blame his dad for knocking back the glass of whiskey he poured himself afterwards.

That night in bed Eddie confesses he feels better that his parents reached out to his mom. Maybe hearing from the Tozier’s would help get his mom to think differently and actually consider being happy for him and not play the victim.

Richie wants to believe that too but somehow doubts it. He doesn’t tell Eddie that, not wanting to crush any hope that he has about having a good relationship with his mom. Richie hopes to hell that things will improve, but right now he doubts things will go much in a positive direction. Still, he could be wrong and hopes he’ll be proven so.

Instead of letting this weigh him down, Eddie throws himself into more planning and packing for school, making sure they have all their supplies, a first aid kit, and a small pharmacy for any allergies, colds, head and muscle aches. Richie helps Eddie with his small portable drug store by contributing neon glow in the dark band-aids to their supplies. It’s the small fun things like these that give Eddie a good distraction from the underlying stress from his mom that Richie can sometimes sense.

The night before they’re set to leave for New York, Richie surprises Eddie with their last date night in Derry for the foreseeable future.

“Why are we going to the Clubhouse?” Eddie asks, a bit confused. Deadfall crunches under his feet as he walks beside Richie, adding to the late summer sounds from the Barrens and wildlife living in it. Everything is peaceful but also tinged with a bit of melancholy. Tomorrow everything changes, the Barrens will begin to become something more of memory than reality, which is why Richie is bringing him to the Clubhouse.

As the Losers grew up, the less the Clubhouse has been used. It was built in the time where childhood reigns supreme, where a sense of magic and excitement would fill each Losers heart every time they were there. Their private untouchable world where the only rules were the ones they made and Richie often broke. Sadly, as all things childhood does, it fades and the Losers opted for more convenient places to hang out as their lives changed and became busier with new responsibilities. But they never would forget all the amazing times spent in their underground sanctuary.

“You’ll see!” Richie grins, holding onto Eddie’s hand as they walk the familiar and well-worn path.

Early evening sunlight pours through the lush canopy of leaves above. The bright sunny spots land in broken up patterns along Eddie’s skin, almost giving him the appearance that he has freckles made of light. Because that's what Eddie is to Richie, sunlight and goodness and bravery and so much more.

He doesn’t realize he’s staring until Eddie looks up at him, a spot of sunlight falling on his eyes, illuminating the brilliant rich brown and golden tones within them.

“What?” Eddie asks, cocking his head.

“Just you.” Richie shrugs a little sheepishly.

“Dork.” Eddie smiles, nudging Richie lightly in the side.

They arrive at the Clubhouse and Richie flings the trapdoor open with a flourish, only he nearly rips it off its worn hinges not realizing how strong he’s gotten.

“Uh, oops?” Richie winces. “Don’t tell Ben?”

“Best not to,” Eddie agrees.

Eddie climbs down the ladder first followed by Richie. Now that Richie’s gotten so tall he has to hunch over a bit to keep from hitting his head constantly against the roof. The Clubhouse has seen better days, it’s true, but Richie managed to clean up a bit beforehand, getting as much stuff cleared away for their date. Posters now yellowed with age and weather still hang on the rough wooden walls. Discarded and forgotten comics and magazines are scattered around the small room among the well-used upturned milk crates. The whole thing is a Losers time capsule.

“Richie…” Eddie breathes with awe and Richie’s heart seizes with pleasure as it always does when Eddie sounds like that.

In the middle of the room, a picnic blanket partially covers the dirt floor. Several outdoor cushions are on top of it and in the middle is a blue cooler with the lid shut. Around the Clubhouse, candles flicker, giving off a soft glow in the dim underground light. Richie quickly pulls out his phone tapping the play button. _Careless Whisper_ begins to fill the small space with its smooth saxophone intro from the speakers placed on top of one of the milk crates.

“Oh, my goood!” Eddie groans, but he’s laughing as does. “Seriously?”

“Yeah, seriously!” Richie says excitedly. Looking down at Eddie he’s mildly surprised to see his eyes glassy with emotion, but he doesn’t have to ask why. Date Night is officially a success no matter what does or doesn’t happen.

“This is…” Eddie trails off as he begins to walk around looking at Richie’s handiwork in awe.

It was hard for Richie to sneak out to set it all up without Eddie catching on, but with a little help from his friends, he got it done with Eddie none the wiser. The look on Eddie’s face makes it all worth it.

“Like it?” Richie bites his bottom lip with anticipation.

“This is perfect,” Eddie laughs, smiling so wide that his tongue peeks out between his teeth.

Richie hurriedly walks over to the blanket, bowing slightly; stretching his arms out in the direction of one of the cushions. “Take your seat, Mousier,” he says in a horrible French accent.

Shaking his head with bemusement, Eddie does. Richie follows ungracefully with his long limbs almost knocking everything over as he sits.

“So,” Eddie begins.

“So,” Richie parrots back with a smile.

Huffing a laugh, Eddie continues, “what percentage is you and what is Bev’s?”

“Heeeeey,” Richie frowns comically, pouting. “Give me some credit here, Eds!”

“I’m kidding, you Loser!” Eddie leans over, kissing Richie softly on the lips.

Richie opens his mouth inviting Eddie to continue and he does, slipping his tongue inside and taking his time. Richie does the same, loving the little breaths Eddie expels against his lips as they momentarily pull apart for more air.

When they finish Richie is proud to see Eddie flushed, lips nice and rosy from kissing. It would be so easy to lay him down right here and begin to kiss him all over, but there’s something about the Clubhouse that makes him pause as if he’d ruin some kind of innocence by blowing his boyfriend in a place that means so much to them.

“Okay, so she did help with one thing,” Richie admits. “When I suggested candles she told me I’d most likely knock one over and burn the Barrens down with us in it.” Richie grabs one of the candles to show Eddie. “They’re fake and have batteries, Stan’s mom has a bunch so he stole me a few.” Eddie nods his head in approval, but before he can say anything Richie hastily adds, “but the rest is all me!”

“Beep beep, Richie!” Eddie levels him with an amused look. “This is perfect. You’re perfect. Nothing else matters.”

The happy puppy energy inside Richie wiggles with the praise. “Cool, cool.”

“What’s in the cooler?”

“Oh! Well,” Richie says as he places his hands on the cooler and flips up the lid with a flourish. Switching to the horrible French accent he continues, “tonight we haz a verray special meal from ze fine ezstablishmont of Zubway.” Two large subs are pulled out the cooler and placed in front of Eddie.

“Fucking hell,” Eddie whispers to himself trying to hold in his laughter as much as possible.

Richie reaches in the cooler again. “Accompanying our fine meal we haz zese wonderval cheeps wiz your choize of flavours. Zen for dezzert we are offering zese cookies.” Richie places the bags of chips and cookies back in cooler and pulls out drinks. “Ahn finally to wash eet all down we haz ze choize of a Doctor Peppahr or Cherray Coke. A verray fine vintage from,” Richie quickly flips the drinks around to look for a date. “Joon of twentay twentay-une. That muzt be ze expiry date.”

Eddie has his face buried in the palms of his hands, his shoulders shaking up and down trying so hard not to completely lose it, but fails. Richie beams with happiness that he’s made Eddie laugh so hard. Eddie deserves all the laughter in his life.

Looking up, Eddie wipes tears away from his eyes. “That was terrible!”

“Thanks!” Richie preens.

Reaching for the sub with his favourite kind written on it, Eddie pauses. “No mustard?”

“No mustard,” Richie confirms. He’s had Eddie’s preferred Subway order memorized since they were twelve. Holding up the two bottles of pop, Richie lets Eddie decide which one he wants even if he knows with absolute certainty he’ll go for the Cherry Coke. With no surprise, Eddie takes the Cherry Coke twisting the top open with a smile.

They eat their meal by faux-candle light, laughing and talking about what’s going to happen over the next few days. But most exciting of all is the planning because they can do it freely and without fear. The freedom they have now is so exhilarating and wonderful but also a little bit terrifying.

Richie is still undecided on a major but is looking forward to taking biochemistry, creative writing, and theatre classes to start his university journey. They still have some time to figure things out class wise. Eddie confessed not long ago that he’s been thinking a little about engineering and maybe one day designing cars as well as rebuilding them. Ben put the idea in his head when he told them he was going to be majoring in architecture, so Eddie’s been researching the different prerequisites that he’d need to get into something like that. If it’s what he really wants to, of course.

Balling up the last of his trash, Richie throws it into the cooler with a loud and long burp.

“So gross,” Eddie says with disgust, scrunching up his nose.

“You love it!” Richie smiles smugly.

“I never have and never will, Trashmouth.” Eddie narrows his eyes at him.

“C’mere and gimme a kiss,” Richie teases as he leans in puckering his lips out like a fish.

Eddie fake gags and smushes the palm of his hand against Richie’s lips to stop him from getting any closer. Richie takes the opportunity to give Eddie’s palm a big sloppy lick with his tongue.

“EUGH! SO GROSS!” Eddie jerks back, half laughing and half desperately trying to find a napkin or something to wipe his hand off with.

“Dude, I’ve had your dick in my mouth. You’ve had my dick in your mouth. I think licking your hand is kinda not on my radar of ‘ew’.” Richie chuckles’, watching amusedly as Eddie finds an unused napkin and begins to wipe his hand off with it in hard determined movements.

“Do you know how many germs are on people’s hands? How many people don’t wash their hands after they go to the bathroom? It’s disgusting, it’s like licking the bottom of a shoe that’s stepped in dog shit!” Eddie says with sharp hand movements to emphasize his point.

Blinking, Richie studies Eddie frown and pursed lips, almost looking like an angry chipmunk. Laughter erupts out of Richie’s mouth causing him to double over wheezing for breath.

“What?” Eddie snaps.

“You’re so fucking cute. I can’t handle it!” Richie laughs, holding his stomach. An unprompted burp escapes Richie as he laughs which only causes him to laugh harder.

“Oh for fucks sake, Richie!” Eddie says, mildly annoyed. He waits as Richie gets his yucks out, arms folded across his chest and staring at this thing called a boyfriend.

As Richie begins to calm down he shoves his glasses up onto his head to wipe the tears from his eyes. “I laugh out of love, Eds. Out of love.” He adjusts his glasses back onto his nose with a grin.

“Yeah, yeah,” Eddie grumps, rolling his eyes.

“I know what will make you feel better,” Richie begins, unfolding his crossed legs, “some hammock time!” Getting to his feet, Richie holds out his hand for Eddie to take.

This catches Eddie slightly off guard. Looking over his shoulder at the old and well-worn hammock he says, “I don’t think that will hold us anymore, Rich.”

“C’mon, we won’t know if we don’t try!”

Eddie considers rapid-firing the pros and cons of getting in the old hammock now that they’re fully grown. Richie waits patiently for him to make his decision.

“Okay, but if it breaks I’m landing on you.” Eddie takes Richie’s hand with a small grimace and is pulled up to his feet.

“Yay!” Richie bounces excitedly, forgetting the height restrictions and ends up knocking his head against the roof. He doesn’t miss the small smirk from Eddie as he rubs his head where his skull connected with the hard ceiling.

The hammock has sure seen better days, that’s for sure. The threadbare and worn fabric looks like it wouldn’t hold one of them now which gives both of them pause. At least they had the forethought to—well, Eddie did—to at least store the thing away during the winter so it wouldn’t get completely ruined. Dust and dirt from the disuse of the summer cling to it so Eddie grips the side giving it a few violent shakes to try and shake out as much dust he can.

The dust settled and hammock ready, Eddie arches an eyebrow at Richie. “After you.”

The not so subtle dare behind Eddie’s words is not lost on Richie. He’s now forced to be the guinea pig. If the hammock doesn’t hold then he’s a goner, the peril of falling two whole feet to the ground below looms before him. Honestly, he’s risking life and limb here.

Tentatively, Richie swings his leg in and lowers himself down. The ropes and fabric groan in protest at his weight but hold as he settles in and stretches out. He remembers this being a lot bigger, having legroom to spare, but that is in short supply as he adjusts himself to make room for Eddie.

“Hop on in, Eds, the water is warm!” Richie gestures up and down his body.

Sighing, Eddie doesn’t reply, instead carefully angling himself into the hammock. After a few minutes of swearing, shoving, and panic as the ropes and the wood holding up the hammock protest rather loudly, Eddie is curled on his side facing Richie. So far so good as the hammock holds.

“Success!” Richie beams.

“So far,” Eddie says with some reservations.

“Aw, c’mon, where’s your sense of adventure?”

“Climbing into a hammock is hardly an adventure.”

“It is with you,” Richie says with a wide grin. That does the trick making Eddie snort and relax against him.

Wrapping their arms around each other’s waists they lay together with their foreheads pressed against each other. Richie has his glasses shoved up in his hair so as not to poke Eddie’s eye out. It doesn’t matter if he can’t see his Spagheddie very clearly right now, touching and smelling him is more than enough.

Music continues to play from the playlist Richie made earlier, a mix of both his and Eddie’s favourites and some general bangers. Tiffany’s ‘ _I Think We’re Alone Now’_ is the next song that comes on, causing an odd wistful and nostalgic feeling to settle in Richie’s chest. Listening to the lyrics Richie is reminded of the times he hogged the hammock purposefully to push Eddie’s buttons and get him to crawl in with him. A younger Richie did it for fun not realizing the feelings behind it but now he knows better.

_I think we're alone now,  
There doesn't seem to be anyone around_

How many times did he wish to be alone with Eddie in this hammock just like they are now? How many times did Eddie grumpily get in kicking Richie as he did to make room for him? How many times did Richie’s heart catch in his throat and butterflies take off in his stomach every time they accidentally touched? Too many times for Richie to count but he doesn’t have to anymore. A literal dream has come true as he lies here with Eddie.

_I think we're alone now,  
The beating of our hearts is the only sound_

The warmth radiating from Eddie wraps itself around Richie like a comforting blanket. Eddie shifts a little, pressing himself closer against his body, sighing with contentment.

Richie doesn’t know if perfect moments exist, but if they do then this is one of them. A moment in time that will linger forever in their memories and something they’ll hold in their hearts until… well, until forever that’s what.

As the song continues Richie feels compelled to admit the truth to Eddie. “Hey, Eds?”

“Mmmh, yeah?” Eddie asks slowly, his voice drowsy.

“I gotta tell you something,” Richie hesitates before he can continue.

Eddie pulls back a bit so he can look at Richie, his brows furrowed slightly with concern. “Okay?”

“So, uhm, y’know how I made hammock sharing a bit of a living nightmare for you when we were younger?”

Eddie relaxes, amusement on his face. “I think I do, yeah.”

“Okay, good. So that was kinda deliberate on my part. I just wanted you in here with me.”

“Fuck,” Eddie chuckles, leaning in and pressing his lips briefly to Richie’s. “I knew what you were doing, asshole.”

“Really?!”

“Yeah!”

“Then why did y—oooh, shit,” Richie begins, and then the dots connect.

“Congrats Sherlock,” Eddie deadpans, then laughs. “You’d think I’d fucking do that if I didn’t want to?”

“I mean that tracks.” Richie feels almost giddy that Eddie had wanted to be in there with him all this time. “You wanted to jump my bones since we were kids, that’s so cute, Eds!”

Eddie grimaces with disgust. “Yeah, seven-year-old me really wanted that.”

Okay, maybe not that young, but definitely within the last couple of years. “Yeah, maybe not that young.”

Eddie grows quiet, letting the music fall over them as if he looks like he’s trying to make up his mind about something. Richie wraps his hand around Eddie’s wrist, running his thumb in a small circle over the soft skin underneath.

“I think I always knew,” Eddie begins, trying to put into words what he’s thinking.

“Knew what?”

“That I loved you. It’s stupid, but I think I knew even if I didn’t?” Eddie frowns slightly; frustrated that he can’t make his sentiments clearer. But he doesn’t have to because Richie has had the exact same thoughts and feelings. The first time he met Eddie he felt something shift inside him, like Eddie slotted in perfectly alongside him and the two other friends he made that first day of first grade. But there was always this little tug in his chest, like a string that connected only him and Eddie more so than Stan or Bill. Of course, Richie had no clue what that meant or would mean for many years, but it’s always been there.

“Not stupid, Spagheddie,” Richie says with a soft smile. “I did too, but what the fuck did I know as a kid?”

“You still don’t,” Eddie teases.

“You’re stuck with my clueless ass from now on so jokes on you!” Richie sticks out his tongue for emphasis.

“Lucky me,” Eddie says, rolling his eyes.

“Nope, I’m the lucky one!”

Eddie looks down, blushing.

Sighing with contentment, Richie leans his forehead against Eddie’s again. “Love ya,” he whispers.

“Love you, too,” Eddie whispers back.

They lie in the hammock together, listening to music and talking about whatever comes to mind. They don’t realize they had fallen asleep until the vibrations of Richie’s phone in his pocket wake them up. The last few days have been a rush of packing and last-minute errands to make sure everything is ready for them to go. It’s exciting but also exhausting for everyone involved.

The text is from Mrs Tozier reminding them to come home early enough to get a good rest. Normally she isn’t picky about their curfew, but with an eight-hour drive to New York ahead of them she wants them to be as well-rested as possible.

They pack up the remnants of their date and leave the Clubhouse. It’s nearly full dark now so Eddie shines his phone’s flashlight on Richie as he closes the trap door. It thuds dully into place without any kind of grand farewell. Richie stands staring at it a sense of melancholy takes hold inside him, like a door to something wonderful has been literally and figuratively closed forever.

“You okay?” Eddie asks with mild concern.

“Yeah, I just…” Picking up the cooler by his feet, Richie shrugs. “I dunno.”

“I know what you mean,” Eddie says, his expression soft and eyes reflecting the same sort of melancholy that Richie has inside.

Richie gives him a halfhearted smile, following his navigator into the dark of the Barrens towards home.

“AAAARGH!” Richie’s world tilts in the blink of an eye as his foot connects with something causing him to trip and lose balance in the darkness. Panic and fear ring all the alarm bells in his head with the shock. He almost flings the cooler he’s holding into the bushes as he windmills his arms to keep from falling on his ass. A bright light blinds him as Eddie whips around with his phone.

“Fuck, Richie! Are you okay?” He asks with alarm.

Everything is a bit disorienting as Richie tries to regain his balance while simultaneously having his retina’s fried. “I’m blind!” Eddie lowers the light and Richie blinks, spots of colour float in front of him. “Fucking tripped on something,” he sighs with frustration, heart hammering faster than a jackrabbit on a dozen energy drinks.

“You’re not hurt?”

“No, I’m okay.” Richie looks around on the ground to see what the offending object that tripped him was but doesn’t spot anything. Weird. He definitely tripped on something.

“Oh my god,” Eddie laughs suddenly and angles the light into the bushes.

Richie spots the butt end of a rather large turtle slowly walking into the underbrush. “The fuck?” Quickly looking around he can’t see anything else that would have caused him to trip, the path is clear. So that means…

“Dude, that turtle had it out for you!” Eddie giggles.

Richie looks dumbfounded as the turtle disappears completely. “Okay but he totally shouldn’t have been driving without headlights!”

“Uh-huh.”

“No, seriously, Eds! Someone should ticket him or something.”

“Right.”

“We’re letting you off with a warning this time, asshole!” Richie calls over his shoulder at the bushes as they continue down the path.

“You sure told him,” Eddie says, smirking.

“Fucking right I did!”

“Proud of you, Rich.”

“It was a close call, but I survived.”

They continue their way out of the Barrens, laughing loudly as the world that loved and accepted them first gives them a silent goodbye.

_The next morning…_

Richie picks up the last remaining box on the floor of Eddie’s room and looks around the early morning sunlit space. It feels weird being here now that they’re minutes away from leaving for New York. He felt the same as he brought down the last box from his room not long ago. Rationally he knows that he’ll be back and his room, well, his and Eddie’s room now will be there for him, but at the same time it feels like he's saying goodbye. He suspects Eddie is feeling the same way as he methodically scans his shelves, desk, and dresser for anything he may have missed.

“Got everything?” Richie asks. His parents are meeting them any second at Eddie’s. The last thing he wants is his dad to arrive and start honking, waking up the neighbourhood. Mr Tozier wants to get on the road early to avoid the worst of the morning rush hour near the city.

“Yeah, I think so.” Eddie looks at him with a small sad smile so Richie leans in and gives him a quick kiss on the cheek.

“Final boss battle begins,” Richie says in a determined voice. Mrs Kaspbrak is currently downstairs in her recliner waiting. Watching. Maybe with a shotgun this time, Richie wouldn’t put that past her, as he is still not in her good books. When they arrived he gave her a cheerful wave and asked her how she was doing. A soft yet very icy “hello, Richie,” was all that he got. It’s a wonder the second ice age didn’t begin right then and there with how cold she sounded.

At least his boss comment causes Eddie to laugh a little, but the amusement doesn’t reach his eyes. Richie’s heart aches for him. His parents extended the invitation for his mom to come with them down to New York, but she refused, which surprised no one.

With one last wistful look around his room, Eddie steps out the door, pulling his suitcase slowly behind him. Richie follows him closely down the stairs.

They pass the living room where Mrs Kaspbrak is sitting like a gargoyle cast in shadow wearing a floral housecoat. “That’s the last of it, mom,” Eddie says, a bit hesitant before he goes out the door. “I’ll be back.” They both wait a moment but she doesn’t answer. Richie doesn’t miss the way Eddie seems to deflate a bit, his shoulders drooping. As if a light switch being flicked on Richie is pissed off, well, more pissed off than he was before after arriving. Eddie deserves so much better than this stupid childish response.

“Hey Eds, d’you mind giving me and your mom a moment? I wanna say goodbye.” Normally Richie would tack on some lewd innuendo to a comment like this, but occasionally he does know when to hold his tongue. Emphasis on ‘occasionally.’

Eddie turns to look at him in alarm, eyes wide and mouth trying to form the proper response, but only chokes out a “what?”

“It’ll be okay, I promise.” Richie gives him an encouraging smile.

“I dunno, Rich,” Eddie says uncertain, his eyes darting back and forth quickly between him and his mom. Mrs Kaspbrak watches with her dark vulture-like eyes from her chair.

“Trust me, okay?” Richie levels Eddie with a look to convey that he means nothing bad with his intentions. If Eddie really doesn’t want him to he won’t, but the strong need to say something to her before they leave has slapped him upside the head. Maybe it is a bad idea, but Richie isn’t afraid of her or hurting her feelings.

Eddie studies Richie’s face closely as he makes up his mind. Big brown eyes soften slightly as Eddie nods his consent. “Just… y’know,” he says softly, not needing to say the rest.

Richie knows, even without their bond he can tell Eddie is anxious enough with everything today. He’ll be on his best behaviour. “Thanks, Spagheddie.” Richie watches Eddie go down the front steps before turning to Mrs Kaspbrak.

Putting down the box, Richie steps towards the gallows—wait, no, living room—and swears the temperature drops with every step he takes. Looking over at the window he checks to see if frost is forming on the glass. It’s not, but weirder shit has happened. He stops several feet away from Mrs Kaspbrak just out of biting range.

Stuffing his hands in his pockets, Richie fidgets with his keys to help ground himself and use as a backup weapon in case she launches herself at him.

“So, uh, mom,” Richie begins nervously.

Silence.

“Okay, too soon? I get that,” Richie begins to babble on. “Um, so yeah, wanted to say bye and all that. And to not worry. About Eddie. Well, I mean yeah, you’re a mom so you’ll probably not ‘not’ worry. I know my mom always tells me that she worries about me so I guess that’s a mom thing.”

Mrs Kaspbrak’s eyes begin to narrow into slits. Things are going great.

Taking a deep breath Richie swallows what he’d really like to say but doesn’t because this is about Eddie and he doesn’t want to cause him anymore hurt and issues to deal with today. Eddie’s been hurt enough for a lifetime.

“Anyway, since this convo is so stimulating I wanted to tell you that I love Eddie. I didn’t think I could love his cute anxious, clean freak, big-hearted butt on a level like I do now. I’m not sorry for it and I’m not sorry it happened.”

_I’m just sorry he ended up with a psycho for a mom._ Richie bites his tongue so hard to keep from saying that last part. She certainly deserves it.

“So yeah. I wanted you to know that. I love him and I want only for him to be happy. I’d fucking go to hell and beyond for him to make sure he’s happy. He deserves that.” Richie pauses slightly taken aback at the lump forming in his throat. The love he has inside for Eddie is immeasurable. “And if something that makes him happy is healing the relationship with you then I’m not gonna stand in his way. He’s free to do what he wants and love who he wants.”

Biting his bottom lip, Richie rocks back on his heels as he finishes his little speech. The icy cold stare from Mrs Kaspbrak causes him to take a special interest at a random spot on the carpet. He waits for an answer or any indication that she hasn’t been replaced with a real gargoyle.

“Is that all?” Mrs Kaspbrak says so quietly that Richie nearly misses it.

Richie doesn’t know why he’s disappointed with her reply, but he is. It’s not like he’s expecting her to burst into tears and have some come to Richie revelation, just something a little more than this.

“Um, yeah, pretty much,” Richie sighs, defeated. Turning back to the door and the late summer warmth he picks up the box and begins to step out the doorway, pausing as the words catch his ear.

“You stole my son from me,” Mrs Kaspbrak says in a calm voice, but no less laced with venom.

Richie laughs at the absurdity of her comment. “Naw, you pretty much drove him away. If anyone stole anything then I guess you could say Eddie stole my heart.” Richie says over his shoulder. Turning back without even waiting for a response, he bounces down the front steps with the box in arm with a smile. Eddie’s waiting in front of his mom’s car that they’ll be driving down to New York in.

“Everything okay?” Eddie asks nervously.

“Everything’s fine, Eds.” Richie beams. Eddie opens the back door and Richie puts the box on the back seat. As he straightens up, he drapes his arms around Eddie’s shoulders and pulls him in for a quick hug. “Trust me, all I said was that I loved you a whole bunch and the sex is amazing.”

“Ohhh my gooood.” Eddie drops his face against Richie’s chest, muffling his reply. “Please tell me you didn’t.”

“Okay the sexytimes part wasn’t said, but the loving you a whole fucking lot was.”

“It better have been.” Eddie looks up at him with an annoyed frown.

Richie kisses the tip of his nose. “Scout’s honour.”

“Ugh, fine.” Eddie blushes slightly. Sighing, he turns his gaze to the open front door of his former home. “I gotta go say goodbye,” he says half to himself and half to Richie.

Richie looks towards the open front door heart aching for Eddie. This part won’t be easy and Richie wishes he could be in there to hold Eddie’s hand for support.

“Do you want me to come with?” Richie offers again.

“No, but thanks,” Eddie smiles sadly up at him.

“Deep breathes, okay?” Richie takes hold of Eddie’s hand, giving it a small squeeze.

“Okay,” Eddie says softly. Letting go of Richie’s hand he slowly makes his way up the front steps and inside.

Richie doesn’t realize how tense he’s become until a car pulls up to the curb behind him and his body begins to relax. It’s his parents, the SUV packed full with suitcases and boxes of all the stuff he and Eddie are taking with them. His mom gives him a little wave and lets down the window.

“Almost done, hon?” Mrs Tozier asks, poking her head out the window.

“Eddie’s just saying goodbye.” Richie looks back to the front of the house. There’s a nervous tightness in his chest that he’s pretty sure isn’t just because this is a huge life moment for Eddie, but because he’s tapped into what Eddie is feeling now. Their bond is a strong one.

“This must be so hard for him, but it’s for the best,” she says nodding almost sadly.

Richie gives her a half-smile in agreement. Yeah, it is for the best in the long run, but it sure doesn’t feel like it. He meant it when he told Mrs K that he wouldn’t stop Eddie from pursuing a relationship with her. If he did then he’d be no better than Eddie’s mom. Richie wishes with all his heart that Mrs K will get her head out of her ass one day and realize the absolutely amazing and talented son she has. Part of Richie is dumbfounded that Eddie turned out so openhearted and loving with a mother like that.

The early morning sun lands against his pale skin, warming it as Richie leans against the side of the car. They have a long drive ahead of them, but with the route that his dad made and then his mom corrected and improved several times they should be in New York around dinnertime. They’ll stay at a hotel tonight then tomorrow they move into their dorm. It all feels like something out of a dream.

Stan and his parents left yesterday and Bill a few days prior, his parents opting for a bit of a mini-vacation in the city with him and Georgie. Mike, Ben, and Bev will be following in a couple of days. The Losers all wanted to make their grand exit from Derry together, but this time family and their different schedules and plans won out. But the Losers are never apart for long. The invisible rope tying them all together is too tight to ever let them truly separate.

Drumming his fingers against the car door, Richie waits, half-listening to his mom and dad bicker about some of the last second decisions about the road trip. The next eight hours will sure be interesting, but he’s not worried. Richie has the best co-pilot in the world travelling with him and a lot less hairy than Chewbacca. Eddie has Google mapped the shit out of the planned route and all alternative routes in case something goes wrong. All Richie needs to do is drive.

The shutting of the front door causes Richie to look up. Eddie walks slowly down the stairs and walkway towards them.

“Are you alright, sweetheart?” Mrs Tozier asks as Eddie walks up. Richie immediately zeroes in on his red-rimmed eyes and tear-streaked face.

Eddie nods a little, swallowing hard. “Yeah.”

Mrs Tozier doesn’t press the issue, not wanting to make Eddie feel uncomfortable. “Okay then. Have a safe ride and keep an eye on Richard.” She levels a playful hard stare at Richie.

“Wha’d I do?” Richie asks indignantly. Honestly, can’t a guy just stand here without being harassed by his parents?

Eddie huffs a bit of a laugh, walking over to Richie. “I will.”

“And make sure he stays within the speed limit!” Mr Tozier calls out after them.

“Oh my fucking god,” Richie mutters, glaring back at his father who gives him the thumbs up.

Eddie snorts, trying to hide his smile. Traitor.

Before getting into the car Richie wraps Eddie up in a quick hug, giving him a hard squeeze and quick kiss on the head. The lack of complaining about the PDA in front of his parents tells Richie that Eddie is in a pretty raw state right now.

“I gotcha, Eds,” Richie whispers as he lets him go.

“I know,” Eddie whispers back, large brown eyes full with emotion.

Opening the driver’s side door Richie slides into his seat, letting lose a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. Eddie settles in the passenger side, doing up his seatbelt, not saying anything. Richie doesn’t want to press him, he knows if Eddie wants to talk about it he will.

Turning the key in the ignition Richie starts the car and sets his phone in the dock. Richie won the right with _rock, paper, scissors_ to start their road trip off with his playlists, but it’s not such a hard loss for Eddie since a lot of their music tastes overlap. Hitting shuffle the smooth powerhouse vocals of Freddie Mercury and Queen’s _‘Don’t Stop Me Now’_ opening fills the small space. It’s oddly appropriate.

Laughing to himself, Richie undoes the e-brake and places his hand on the automatic gearshift. Soft warmth engulfs his hand as Eddie places his over Richie’s, fingers slotting perfectly in between. Looking at Eddie, Richie’s breath is stolen right out of him with the look of love and happiness on Eddie’s face. There’s still sadness underneath, but what Richie see’s is the beautiful bright light that is Eddie Kaspbrak shining through into the world for everyone to see. A loose curl of hair rests on Eddie’s forehead resisting being compliant with the laws of hair gel and styling. It makes Richie almost dizzy with how adorable he is.

Richie’s throat tightens with emotion, his eyes pricking with tears. When did he turn into such a huge sap? Oh, yeah, when he fell head over heels for his best friend. Euphoric excitement that feels as though it cannot be contained inside his ribcage bursts through Richie’s heart. The great big doors of the world are open and it’s time to step through.

_I'm a shooting star, leaping through the sky…_

Richie shifts the car into drive, Eddie’s hand never leaving his. Together they take off down the road unseen, outrunning this town and into something brilliant and beautiful, a life with each other.

The end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading and thank you for any and all feedback. I'm so happy people have enjoyed this fic and the world I created with Eddie, Richie, and the other Losers. I love these characters so much and I'm a bit sad to say goodbye to them...for now. There may be little updates about them and what happens in the future, but for now, after ten months of writing this, I am taking a small break.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Feedback is wonderful and appreciated so much! This is the biggest and most involved fic I've ever worked on in my life, so I'm quite excited and terrified posting this. 
> 
> The title of this fic comes from the song "Falling Into Place" by Our Lady Peace.


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